


Fury and Rebellion

by Oshara



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Jon Snow Jaehaerys, King Rhaegar AU, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-22 05:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 46,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13160535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshara/pseuds/Oshara
Summary: Rhaegar Targaryen has defeated the rebellion and has given one of his men, Alliser Thorne, a stag as his reward. But old tensions from the rebellion have never been resolved, and alliances are ever changing. (Previously called "The Flail and the Stag")





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is an AU fic, obviously, and quite a bit is different from the actual canon of what happened, but it's described in the story. Took some liberties with the importance of house Thorne.

He wasn’t exactly sure why the dragon prince, dragon king, wanted to see him privately in the Red Keep.

Alliser Thorne had fought for the Targaryens during the attempted rebellion, more specifically during the attempted sack on Kings Landing. The Mad King had been killed by a member of his own Kingsguard, Jaime Lannister, and still they had to hold the gates. Prince Rhaegar, or as he now was King Rhaegar, led them to victory, after such a well fought battle at the Trident, this was just another victory. Thorne had been knighted for his efforts.

With the rebellion quashed, it was then down to what to do with the leaders. Eddard Stark had been killed in Dorne, reports said. Slain by Arthur Dayne. Robert Baratheon was slain at the Trident by Rhaegar himself. Jon Arryn was brought forth to Kings Landing for Execution, and Storms End was finally seized. They had heard that apparently, Stannis Baratheon was so weak from hunger that there was barely a fight to be hard, but he didn’t lay down his sword. He was killed in combat, just like his brother. His younger brother, Renly, was seized, as was his younger sister, Carlys. Brought to Kings Landing, although not executed like the others. 

There were two surviving Starks. The stories made their rounds about the kingdoms of how Rhaegar had kidnapped Lady Lyanna, and it was the start of the rebellion, but they were just that, rumors. Lyanna returned to Kings Landing, with a new heir to the Iron Throne. Jaehaerys Targaryen. The insult to Princess Elia had not been ignored, but the Dornish had no choice but to back down once the rest of the rebels had been killed. It was said that Lyanna convinced Rhaegar to let her youngest brother, Benjen, live in Winterfell, continue to serve as warden of the north. He granted her that.

Not many families were so lucky, and the Kingdom was being reorganized.

A squire had brought the King and the new Knight both a glass of wine, on Rhaegar’s insistence. Alliser hadn’t quite developed a taste for the wine of Kings Landing, but he was a smart enough man to know not to turn down a drink from a King. Rhaegar sipped his wine, his eyebrows arched as he watched Alliser from over his cup. Alliser could only wonder what the dragon was thinking, and didn’t dare to speak before his King.

He sipped the wine himself. It tasted bitter on his lips. The room of the Red Keep that they were in was cold, quite dark as well. The only light poured in through the windows, which gave the chilling wind permission to enter as well. 

“Your family served mine loyally in the rebellion.” Rhaegar finally broke the silence, and broke some of Alliser’s tension as well. Rhaegar was easy to get along with, often described as the most attractive man of Kings Landing, the stories left out just how charming he was. Alliser was perhaps his very opposite. Cold, rigid, serious. All were words that could have been used to describe him. It hid his emotions well though, the Dragon Prince didn’t see anything off with him.

“Yes, your grace.” He hadn’t been the only Thorne serving the Targaryen’s, but he was the eldest son. With his father dying in the rebellion, he was to be the lord of their lands.

“Your loyalty has not gone unnoticed,” Rhaegar commented, sipping from his wine. “Many other houses were not like yours.”

Many houses had fought against the crown. Many houses that were no longer in existence. 

“I like to think that I am the sort of king that rewards loyalty,” Rhaegar continued, a smile tugging onto his lips. The smile wasn’t able to hide his exhaustion though, the rebellion had only been over for a fortnight, and much had happened since then. “I have a reward for you, if you will take it.”

Alliser stayed stoic as ever, although he shifted out of his seat to kneel before the king, bowing his head. “You honor me, your grace.”

Rhaegar laughed. His laugh was the sort to fill the room, catch peoples attentions. “Rise, Ser Alliser. Don’t thank me yet. Other lords have not been so… enthusiastic, after hearing what I offer.”

Alliser rose to his feet, but he didn’t believe he would turn down anything the king would offer him. They were not smart men, he told himself. 

“The Baratheon’s used to hold Storms End, and the Stormlands were under their rule,” Rhaegar started. “But, the Baratheon’s are no longer in the position they were. I need a new family in Storms End, to rule there. I would like to extend the offer to your family, for you to be the Lord of Storms End, with one caveat.”

Alliser was speechless. Storms End had stood on the cliffs for centuries, under the rule of a Baratheon Lord. It gave a great deal of power to the man who held it.

But, he hadn’t ignored the last detail.

“What is the caveat?” Alliser asked, confident that he would accept the castle regardless. It was an honor from his King, the King he had fought bravely for.

“You must marry the young stag, Carlys Baratheon.”

Carlys Baratheon was only a year younger than her brother Stannis, and had been at Storms End when it was seized with their younger brother, Renly. She had been captured, too weak to fight, but they had heard stories of her before that, seen her at tourneys and other events. She was an ugly girl, black hair often unkempt, her body thick with muscle and fat. She had round brown eyes and a flat nose. She was often called the She-Stag since she had the ferocity of her brothers.

“Why?” It was all that Alliser could ask. Everyone expected that the young Baratheon stags would be put to the executioner's sword, finish the family off for good. Not to be put in high positions.

“You will wed her, bed her, have an heir.” Rhaegar downed the rest of his wine. “If you accept, that is. The Storms all rebelled against me, the houses rallying to Robert. They are already unsettled. I am not going to start my reign by calling for the heads of each Storm Lord. This way, perhaps they will see that we showed mercy to their Lady. She can be kept as you’d wish, under chains and locks if you’d have it. Her brother, Renly, will be kept in Kings Landing, to dissuade her from trying any sort of rebellion.”

The knight thought of the young lady Baratheon. He had never met her, but he had seen her when she was brought to Kings Landing. An emaciated thing, keeping her brother held close to her. 

But, he was not the lord to turn down an offer made from his King. King Rhaegar was honoring him, and he nodded, bowing his head yet again.

“I will do as is commanded of me, your grace.”

He didn’t see as another smile crossed Rhaegar’s face, and he called for another glass of wine.


	2. Carlys

There was nothing that Carlys Thorne hated more than going to Kings Landing.

The majority of the city smelled like shit most times, and riding through the streets was no safe place to be. The Red Keep was worse though, being around the nobles who so valiantly bragged of their exploits during the rebellion, although she was sure half of them cowered behind their large stone walls, sending the others to die for them. There was only one thing that kept her going to Kings Landing, aside from her husband’s insistence, and even he was becoming painful. Renly had always been small, but he seemed to grow smaller by the day, and they wouldn’t train him. 

Her heart ached with sorrow when she looked at him.

She stopped her horse, and in turn the convoy that rode with them. She rode up at the front with the others for years now. It used to bother Alliser when she would request it, but he no longer bothered to argue. She looked up to the sky. It was a clear day, white puffy clouds floated by lazily as sun rained down on them like small drops of gold.

She heard the hoofbeats of her husband’s horse ride to her, and closed her eyes in turn. “Hello, my love,” she said without looking at the man. At first, the words had been mocking, her own small act of defiance against a man she thought she would never love. Now it was merely habit.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked, and she shook her head. “Then why did you stop?”

“I am simply admiring the day. I forgot how calm it was here.” The days were not nearly as peaceful in Storms End. It had earned its name for a reason. “We should get the children out so they can play in the sun.”

“We are almost to Kings Landing. They will come out when we arrive,” he said, stepping his horse so he was in front of her. Finally, she looked at him. He was unsmiling, as always, although that never bothered her so much. Stannis was the same way, and she loved him with all her heart. “Delaying going to the city won’t mean we won’t go.”

“I know.” She looked at him closer. He wasn’t the most attractive man, but she wasn’t the most attractive woman. Somehow, they managed to have a girl who was beautiful, and a boy who would be the same as he grew. “I only wish we didn’t have to go.” Voicing her displeasure was one of the only things she could do to make herself heard. She had felt like a prisoner for years, although an admittedly well treated one.

“It is an honor for the King to invite us,” Alliser argued, which made her blood boil. “We must meet him with courtesy.”

“Yes, it is an honor to hear of how he slew my brothers. You are right.” Carlys didn’t even sound mad anymore. “It’s an honor to hear how Rhaegar’s sword cut Robert’s belly, or how Stannis could barely lift his sword to fight but still fought anyway. Quite an honor.”

She had to give credit to the dragon king, he never tried to brag about his accomplishments during the rebellion. He was one of the more held back ones, until he became bold from his wine. That was when she heard the stories. She often held Alliser’s hand so tight in those instances that her nails dug into his palm, as she held back her fury. Robert was a warrior, Stannis was a warrior. Both deserved better than to be memorialized in Rhaegar’s drunken stories.

It wasn’t the King who she held the more ire for. When they were locked in Storms End during the siege, in one of the final days, Stannis was telling her and Renly of the war. Men fought, and lost, and that was the price of war that everyone had to pay when the fighting began. Rhaegar won, it was a fact of war, and as much rage as she had for the man, it wasn’t as bad as it was for his wife.

Lyanna Stark. The wolf.

They were set to be sisters, and perhaps, in another time, they would have been. Lyanna was betrothed to Robert, she was the reason that the rebellion started. Like a foolish girl, she ran away with the man she “loved”, and for that, Carlys’ family paid the price. Lyanna’s family payed the price. When she saw the young wolf she wanted to cut her down.

But then she would remember Renly, and knew that any wrong step would mean death for her baby brother.

She was surprised when Alliser softened slightly, his horse riding beside hers. He reached out and touched her arm. “You will get to see your brother. You should be happy.”

She knew he didn’t understand, he didn’t try to understand. But she smiled at him anyway, a small smile that only he saw. He didn’t try to understand, but he sometimes tried to comfort.

They continued riding until they arrived at Kings Landing. Their horses were led to stables and they went to the back of the small caravan to a small carriage.

A young lady stepped out from the back. She was only thirteen years old but she was a true beauty. She had the traditional coal black hair of a Baratheon that fell in loose curls down her shoulders, and ice blue eyes. She wore a serious expression on her face, one that always reminded Carlys of Alliser. In her arms squirmed a small baby, Cedrick. 

They only had the two children. There had been three other attempts, one ended in a miscarriage, the other two were stillbirths. Both sons. Their daughter, Helenys, was thought to be the future heir to Storms End until Cedrick was born. She was smart, although not a warrior, she was too thin and too weak. Cedrick would be the warrior of the family, Carlys thought. She wanted to name the baby after one of her brothers, Robert or Stannis, but Alliser warned her of how that would look. Both were traitors, and Carlys was not a traitor. She had bent the knee to the King, and denounced her brothers.

She felt ill at the memory.

Carlys took baby Cedrick into her arms as he slept, holding him close to her chest. Alliser looked at his daughter. “How was the trip?”

“Long,” Helenys remarked, walking down the path. Alliser glanced at his wife before following behind his daughter, Carlys doing the same.

They knew where to go. Many other great families were in the capital, she saw the banners of the Boltons, the Tullys, even the Lannisters seemed to be represented. The golden lion sigil flew high above the rest as if proudly roaring to claim its place. 

But as they neared the Red Keep, the crowns banners dwarfed the rest. The proud dragon and direwolf flew side by side, marking the newly historic union. There were whispers from many the first time the sigil was flown, but those were quick to disappear. They were all afraid of seeming disloyal. It didn’t matter that Rhaegar wasn’t the Mad King, it only mattered that he had his blood.

The royal family was there to greet their guests, one by one, and Carlys tensed. Cedrick woke up, whining slightly. She saw the two siblings of the King first. Viserys seemed wholly disinterested in everyone, only looking some in the eyes. Daenerys would give a small curtsey and smile. The next was the newest prince, Jaehaerys, who looked out of place with his black curls. Far more like Lyanna than Rhaegar. Aegon and Rhaenys stood beside him. 

And next stood the King and Queen; Rhaegar and Lyanna. Rhaegar smiled so effortlessly, his silver hair blowing so slightly in the wind. He looked like a fine oil painting more than a man, but all Carlys could see was her brothers, how they met their ends because of the King. Lyanna was a true northern beauty, they had met before the rebellion. She wasn’t like many other ladies, and the two bonded over that. Lyanna was always strong, stronger than many lords they had met. 

Carlys tensed again, and this time, Cedrick wailed.

“Take your brother,” Alliser ordered Helenys, who took Cedrick in her arms. He calmed in his sister’s arms.

As they neared the royals, Carlys looked at her husband. She never trusted the man, she wasn’t foolish to think that he wanted to marry her. He was ordered to marry her, and he was a man of loyalty. He would have done anything that Rhaegar ordered of him. It was times like these she resented him, although she was also sure that she would probably be worse off without him. 

They approached the King and Queen, and Lyanna’s smile faltered. Rhaegar’s never did. Carlys hated him all the more for that. “Welcome, Lord and Lady Thorne,” Rhaegar said politely. 

Carlys swallowed her pride. “Thank you for your invitation, your grace. It is an honor to be here.” She curtsied like a proper lady, and he took her hand and kissed it. She smiled politely as other pleasantries were exchanged. Her eyes were torn away when she saw him, the Targaryen ward.

Renly had always been skinny, he never seemed to recover from the starving that happened in Storms End. He wasn’t strong, he wasn’t a warrior like the others in the family, but he was looking better for once. His hair was as black as any other Baratheon’s, and his beard was growing in more. His face was still hollow, his eyes fixed on his sister.

She broke away from her family, rushing to her little brother and embracing him. Lost in the moment she didn’t even notice the stares, or whispers.

She didn’t care, neither of them did.


	3. Alliser

Alliser had never hit Carlys. Never raised a hand to her.

 

It wasn’t for lack of agitation. The She-Stag had tested him every day during their first year of marriage, fighting him on every decision he tried to make, trying to undermine him at every turn. He had snapped, several times. When she was being a child he told her, he would yell, intimidate her, but he never hit her.

 

He never lied to her either. He wouldn’t tell her everything, but she knew it was because of her status. She was the sister of traitors, she couldn’t be trusted. Not even by her own husband. When they first married, he didn’t hide his distaste for her, he didn’t mind reminding her that she was simply just a duty that he had to fulfil for the King. She made her distaste for him known as well, although she was clever. She never went so far as to break the façade of her loyalty to the King. She spoke of Rhaegar with venom, and Robert with love, but was sure to call Rhaegar the king, and Robert the usurper. She’d call her husband her lord, a sound Alliser was still not used to hearing.

 

He watched her as she changed into his house colors. The red, black and silver looked almost unnatural on her, for years she insisted on wearing the Baratheon colors. Still in Storms End she would. The reminder that there was, in fact, still a Baratheon in Storms End looked good, as if the crown was forgiving. The bannermen of the former house all swore fealty to House Thorne, and it was in large part due to the marriage between the two.  

 

Their marriage had grown better, year by year. Although, it still barely resembled love on its best days.

 

“You can’t do that again.” Alliser broke the silence and she glanced over her bare shoulder at him as she pulled her dress on. “With your brother. You should have waited.”

 

“He’s my brother,” she said simply. “I hadn’t seen him in years.”

 

“It doesn’t look good,” he explained, but she rolled her eyes. He pretended not to notice.

 

“Neither of _us_ planned the rebellion. We laid down our swords, we bent the knee to the King. It was merely a hug, nothing more.”

 

He walked to her as she began to lace up her dress. She hated the dress, and he knew it, but she wouldn’t complain, not anymore. “You are both Baratheons. Your brothers-“

 

“Raised up in rebellion against the King. I know. Lyanna Stark’s brother did as well, and yet she is the queen.” She gave her husband an icy glare. “They’ve taken everything else from me. My brothers, my name. Renly is all I have left of my old life.”

 

“You have your new life.” Helenys and Cedrick would be with handmaidens in the other room. “You have another family.”

 

“I love my children.”

 

“Then stop endangering them.”

 

She stayed quiet for a few moments. The room was dark, illuminated by candles and the moonlight that shone in through the window. They would have to leave soon, join the other houses in the feast.

 

“I had to get away from Lyanna Stark anyhow,” she added quietly. “I see Robert in her. I think of him. It pains me to be near her.”

 

“Well, you have to be able to control your emotions,” he said somewhat coldly. “We can’t have you trying to stab the queen.”

 

She smirked. He rolled his eyes.

 

“Just control yourself. For me. It’s a great honor to be here. You’re lucky they even wanted you.”

 

“Because I am a traitor.” She repeated the same words he had said before mockingly.

 

“You say that as if you aren’t,” he said, “As if your brothers didn’t raise up in rebellion, try to kill our King.”

 

“Your King.”

 

He stepped forward to her. He was taller than her, and when he glared down at her, he would expect her to flinch away. She used to. She was smaller than she once was, never allowed to train she never gained back the muscle she had lost during the Seige of Storms End. “Watch your tongue,” he growled lowly, and then added “ _Traitor._ ”

 

She glared back with her own intensity, the Baratheon fury growing within her. “And I thought we were past that.”

 

She wasn’t mistaken, they had for the most part. But there they were again, him glaring at her, her ready to snap. Ultimately, he stepped back, and she did as well.

 

“Wear the black doublet,” she told him. “Black looks good on you.”

 

She walked to the other side of the room and he shook his head. He understood why none of the other lords wanted to marry her, he didn’t want to be married for her for the longest time.

 

_It was after their wedding when the pair went to their new bedroom. Carlys walked right past her husband, sitting down on the edge of the bed, trying to look more confident than she actually was. At least, he thought that. She watched him with a steady gaze. Alliser stayed close to the door, rigid as a plank of wood._

_“Well? Get over here,” she said, waiting for him. After another couple of seconds she rolled her eyes. “Do you even know how to fuck? Because we’re going to have to be a lot closer than this.”_

_He tried not to flare with anger, which wasn’t as difficult as he initially thought. She had been a pain all night, he was out of energy more than anything. “You seem calm.” He walked to the bed and sat beside her as well._

_“I’m a Lady. This is what Ladies do. Give ourselves to our Lord husbands. I’m a Lady Baratheon, my life has been building to this very moment.”_

_“You’re Lady Thorne now,” he reminded her. She went quiet._

_“You’ll get Storms End once our marriage is legitimized. So, legitimize it.”_

_He frowned. He knew she never wanted the marriage, he never wanted it either. The wedding was more than uncomfortable for both of them. Both had sat at the head of the long hall, her hand in his for most of the night for show. She only smiled when she saw men she knew, men who had fought alongside her brothers. They wished her well in her marriage, and extended her condolences for her brothers. She said the line as if she had rehearsed it a thousand times, how her brothers were traitors of the crown. It pained her each time, Alliser could tell. More than anything else, her loyalty to her brothers bothered him._

_“You need to push the thoughts of your brothers out of your mind,” Alliser instructed his new wife as she closed her eyes. “You are my wife now.”_

_“You don’t want me to be your wife,” she said blankly. “You want Storms End.”_

_“Does that matter?”_

_She didn’t answer right away. “Make this marriage legitimate so we can go back to silence.”_

They had moved past that. But still, when they came to Kings Landing, the same arguments broke out. She was with her brother, she would think of her dead brothers.

 

And he hated her for that.


	4. Lyanna

Lyanna could always feel Rhagar’s violet eyes on her before she actually saw him looking at her. 

He stood in the doorway as she brushed her long hair, but she didn’t turn to address him at first, making him wait, but she knew he never minded. Rhaegar would make the world stop for her if that was what she wanted, although it was never what she wanted. 

“You can come in,” she told him, turning to him finally. She smiled softly as he walked to her side, kissing her brow. 

“You look lovely, my queen.”

She smirked and looked forward again. Lyanna never cared for looking lovely, it was one of the last things on her mind, but the compliment was nice anyway. She sighed though, and straightened her back. It had gotten harder since becoming queen, knowing all the eyes were to her. No one treated her as they used to. In the North, it wasn’t exactly accepted that she would ride and train with her brothers, her father never fully approved, but it was worse in the capital. They looked at her and wanted her to be the perfect lady, the perfect queen. And she wanted to be that for Rhaegar, for her family. Not at the sacrifice of herself though. It was something Rhaegar never asked for. He never wanted her to change. 

But it wasn’t just about what he wanted.

“You chose interesting company for tonight,” Lyanna remarked. She knew every face that had arrived at Kings Landing, every banner and every house. She knew who aligned with who when it came to the rebellion, who fought against her husband, who fought with her brother. 

Rhaegar kept his calm composure as he ran his fingers through her hair. He was always so gentle. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

He shrugged and wandered from her side, walking across the room to pour them both a glass of wine, a fine Dornish red. “They are the lords and ladies of my kingdom. It is important to make them all feel welcome, to keep them together.” He brought her a glass of the wine, and she stared at it for a moment before letting her eyes raise back to look at him. 

“Many of them don’t hold love for you, for us.” She took a sip of the wine to calm her nerves. “I’m already unsure about your choice for a hand, but did you have to bring our enemies to us?”

“They are no longer our enemies. They all bent the knee, they are all a part of our kingdom.” He swirled the wine in the glass but never took a sip. “Tyrion Lannister will make a fine hand. And it will bring the Lannisters back into the fold. He isn’t as unpredictable as Tywin.”

“You executed his brother, he may hold a grudge,” she argued, but she ultimately knew it was useless. She stood and paced across the room, taking another sip of her wine. She wasn’t afraid, or worried, only frustrated. “The Martells are here too. And Lysa Arryn. A lot of people who have no love for us.”

“We will be safe,” Rhaegar soothed, walking to her. He put down his wine and put his hands on her shoulders. “I would never let any of them hurt you, or our family. You know that.”

“I’m not worried about them hurting me. I’m worried about them killing you,” she told him and looked at him. “Carlys Baratheon wanted to. It was clear to see.”

“She won’t lay a finger on anyone as long as we have Renly as our ward,” he said simply. 

“He’s too old to be our ward.” She turned to him fully and he moved a strand of hair from her eyes. She smiled softly for a moment. “Perhaps we should give Renly back. To Storms End.”

Facing the boy had always been a struggle for her, and it didn’t get any easier the more he grew. Lyanna had barely known the other Baratheons, she had met Stannis and Carlys before, Renly only when he was a baby before the rebellion. She knew Robert well though, and Renly was nothing like Robert, not really. Robert was a drunk, a pompous man who she knew would dishonor her, cheat on her, as much as he claimed to be in love with her. Half the reason she ran away with Rhaegar was out of love, pure, true love for her husband. The other half was rooted in not wanting to marry Robert. 

But that never meant that she wanted what happened to happen. She didn’t want her brothers, her father, to die for her. She held that guilt in her heart every day of her life, but the guilt of the Baratheon’s weighed on her every time she saw the black-haired Renly running through the hall, as he grew older and squired for Rhaegar, she saw him more and more, and it bothered her more. He never seemed particularly unhappy, her and Rhaegar were sure to give him a good life, he had only been a child when the Rebellion had broken out, he wasn’t guilty in the slightest. He seemed happy, but it was easy to tell that sometimes he would look uncomfortable around the castle.

And why shouldn’t he be? They did kill his brothers, take him hostage. No wonder he ran so quickly to his sister. Renly reminded him a little bit of Benjen when he was with Carlys, made her miss her youngest brother. He would be coming later in the week.

The sad smile written on Rhaegar’s face did not lift her spirits. “We cannot do that. We make him comfortable, we have given him more opportunities than perhaps he would have had with his own family. He’s not unhappy.”

“You’ve been the one saying that we need to prove our trust. How better to prove that than by letting him go?” She shook the own idea from her head. She knew that this was the one instance where he was right and her senses had left her. She closed her eyes and felt her draw nearer.

His lips were gentle against hers, and he held her close. The warmth of his body battled with the cold of hers, but it felt comforting. He wasn’t like other lords she had met. They seemed to be either one way, or another. They were either too soft, meek and gentle, or too hard, violent and brash. Rhaegar was protective of her, he was a strong warrior, but he was also gentle and sympathetic, not only to her. He was a fair king, even if they didn’t see it. Far fairer than the kings before. 

“We should join the feast,” he said with a smile as she opened her eyes. “No one will hurt us, no one will hurt you. I promise, my wolf.”

She wasn’t sure if she believed it, she knew that many of the people in the castle would want them dead. But they wouldn’t be bold enough to try to kill the King and Queen so publicly. 

She had to trust in their fear more than his confidence.


	5. Carlys

The main hall had many of the families already there. Wine was flowing, laughs were booming, everything was full of life.

 

Carlys had to give Rhaegar some credit, he did know how to have a celebration. It would be one that Robert would have enjoyed, although if he was drunk enough he would have enjoyed a broken-down whore house just as well. Stannis would have hated it. Stannis hated everything, she figured. She rarely ever saw him smile, and an event such as this one would have made him even more uncomfortable. Renly probably loved it. Renly was more like Robert than he would have admitted. Perhaps Carlys was more like Stannis, because she hated the event.

 

Cedrick was left with his wet nurse, but Helenys walked with her parents. One of the handmaidens of the castle led Helenys to a table with other lordlings and small ladies. She was as polite as ever to them, rigid and stiff her mother noticed. But she was just as legitimate as the rest, even if she was half traitor. That was how they labeled Carlys, a traitor, which made her children half traitors. Alliser would threaten to cut down men who said it to his face, but they never said it to his face anymore.

 

Carlys and Alliser were led to a table, getting a closer look at the King and Queen. They looked like a proper couple, sitting up straight, but Rhaegar had a smile on his face. Lyanna would smile politely at those who would approach the table to greet them, but always her smile would disappear.

 

In the middle of the room lords and ladies danced intricately, all knowing the steps. They tended to be younger, the ones just learning the ways of courting. The tables were piled high with food and around the room squires and handmaidens carried wine to give to the already drunken attendants, in some cases.

 

“How long must I stay?” Carlys turned to Alliser, who looked perhaps as awkward as Stannis would have been in the same situation. He glanced at her and sipped his wine.

 

“Is it really such torture to be here?” He asked. Before it might have irritated him more to have the conversation, but after so many times of having it, it just tired him.

               

“If I have to sit with you the entire time then perhaps it is.” She turned to look straight ahead at the dancers, but she could feel Alliser’s icy glare on her. “I didn’t mean it, love. We got married so we could spend this precious time together.” That cut more than her more overtly rude comment, but he didn’t say anything. She figured he was keeping with his determination to have one night in the presence of his king where his wife wasn’t difficult.

 

So, instead of saying anything, he took her hand and squeezed it. “You may leave when it is respectful to leave. Until then you will sit here, and look happy. We don’t need another embarrassment for our family.”

 

She looked back at him and smiled, she had gotten pretty good at faking her own happiness. “Yes, my love.”

 

She downed a glass of wine in an attempt to keep her sanity as some of the lords around her began to talk about her brother’s failed rebellion. She was only saved a little while later when a man behind them cleared his throat.

 

“May I have this dance, Lady Thorne?”

 

She turned around to see the only true Baratheon left standing, Renly. Even through his captivity, Renly always had a strange confidence about him, perhaps it was part of being a Baratheon. He was young, charming, in his own way. Whenever Carlys saw him it tended to be from a distance. It saddened her how thin he looked, how he never grew into the warrior potential she knew he could be, but perhaps there was more to Renly than she initially thought.

 

Alliser looked at him and then at his wife. “Perhaps after this morning that wouldn’t be a good idea.” He was trying to sound diplomatic, but the intention was clear in his voice. He was saying no.

 

Still, she took her brothers outstretched hand. “It is much needed time with my brother. Besides, you wouldn’t want to cause a scene, cause any more embarrassment to our family.” She would deal with the consequences later. Alliser wasn’t a Baratheon, but he had a fury all his own. She would face it if it meant time with her brother.

 

Without another word, Renly whisked her out on the dance floor. “Is he going to hurt you for that?” Renly asked cautiously, putting his hand on her waist as they began to dance. She was terrible, but he was quite good, so it evened out.

 

“He will get angry, as he does.” She enjoyed the closeness to her only living family left. “It’s worth it to see you. You look thin. They don’t train you I assume?”

 

“They don’t want another Baratheon warrior to face on the battlefield.” He reasoned with a smirk. “Not after Robert almost defeated Rhaegar on the Trident. Had you heard about that?”

 

“I heard it was a clean victory,” she said with a frown. She had only heard stories from Rhaegar’s lords. Renly shook his head.

 

“Robert was about to cave in his breastplate.” He spoke in hushed tones, pulling himself closer to her. “One more swipe and Rhaegar would be under the ground.”

 

“Where did you hear that?”

 

“I overheard Lord Oberyn talking about it. How he heard it I have no idea.” Renly smiled at his sister. To her, he would always look like the small child he was at Storms End when they were growing up, the one too little to hunt or train with the rest of them. “Lord Oberyn talks about many things that may interest you.”

 

She would have frozen there, but the kept her composure, smiling down at Renly. She knew there would be eyes watching them, probably ears listening as well. “Lord Oberyn is an interesting man, but I doubt he has anything that would be of interest to me.”

 

“He wants to set things right in the kingdom,” he said in a hushed whisper and she shook her head.

 

“Push those notions from your mind.”

 

“Carlys-“

 

“Renly if they even heard you were communicating with Oberyn Martell they would have you killed,” she whispered harshly. “I’ve already lost two brothers, I don’t want to lose another.”

 

Renly looked at her with serious eyes. “You are fine under this regency then?”

 

“Of course not. I’d bring a Warhammer to them myself if I could,” she muttered under her breath, which made him laugh.

 

“You sound like Robert.”

 

“Talking like that got Robert killed.”

 

“Fighting got Robert killed.”

 

 _‘Queen Lyanna got Robert killed,’_ she thought to herself, but that was one thing she wouldn’t say out loud. For some reason, it sounded more treasonous than threatening the king and queen, it felt like something that would land her head outside of the Red Keep.

 

The song ended and Renly leaned in, kissing his sister on the cheek. “Just know that if I am to die, I intend to die like our brother.” His whispers were rushed.

 

“You’re no warrior, Renly, leave it alone,” she whispered back and he smirked.

 

“You don’t need a sword to fight, dear sister.” He kissed her cheek again and pulled back, disappearing into the crowd.

 

Carlys made her way back to her husband and sat by his side. She smiled at him sweetly, in a better mood and more eager to please him, but he didn’t seem impressed.

 

He leaned in close. “You better watch yourself, Baratheon.”

 

She smirked and reached out to cup his cheek in her hand, kissing him softly. Once he broke apart she smiled again. “I’m Lady Thorne, remember?”

 

He blinked a few times, and then broke away from her, taking a sip of wine. She sipped her own, thinking of her brother’s words. She only knew how to fight with a sword, but perhaps he was onto something. Perhaps it was better to die fighting, then complacent in a world she hated.

 

Or perhaps that sounded so romantic to her brothers who didn’t have children of their own.

 

But when she looked up at Lyanna and Rhaegar, she felt a kinship with her brothers, and a desire to finish what they started. Perhaps seeking out Oberyn Martell could be well worth her time.


	6. Alliser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's cool to read all your guys comments on this! It's kind of just a random side project so I can get back into writing for the new year, so I'm glad you guys either enjoy it, or at least are reading it. Always love the feedback.

Carlys smiled more when she was with her children, or her brother it seemed.

 

But Alliser could handle her being with her children. They were back in their room, Carlys rocking young Cedrick to sleep in her arms, but the child was still full of energy. He giggled and reached up to his mother, which made her giggle and kiss his little hand.

 

It was a rare moment of peace for them. Alliser almost felt bad to break it.

 

“You were petulant tonight,” he said and she glanced at him. She didn’t even seem bothered, which only bothered him more.

 

“Petulant is a word you use to describe a child.” She smiled down at Cedrick and bounced him again, eliciting another laugh from him. “I’m not your child, I’m your wife.”

 

“I’m tired of having the same arguments with you. Start listening to me, Carlys. I’m trying to keep you safe, our children safe.”

 

She laughed. “You’re trying to keep your reputation safe. You don’t care about me.” She walked to him, handing him the baby. “Hold your son.”

 

Alliser took Cedrick and looked down at him. The child didn’t look like either of his parents much yet, but he had Baratheon black hair, like his mother and sister. He looked like he belonged at Storms End, they all did.

 

“Is it really so out of the question that I would trust you to keep our children safe?” She asked, watching him with Cedrick. “They might kill me for dancing with my brother, hell you may be the one who would want to take my head off my shoulders. But you wouldn’t let them touch the children. They’re your heirs, it would be an insult to your house.” She paused. “And they seem to like you. You seem to like them.”

 

He wasn’t listening to the end of her sentence but instead focused on something else. “You think I want to kill you?” He asked.

 

“Every other Targaryen loyalist does.” She shrugged. “We’re not in public, you don’t have to act as though you care for me.”

 

In truth, it was hard for him to care for her, to even pretend when they were in public, but he had never wanted to kill her. She was a traitor, and their marriage was a sham to get the Storm Lords to bend the knee to the crown. He knew that, she knew that, everyone did. But it was hard to be married to someone for so long without developing some sort of affection for them. That was what he had told himself, anyway.

 

He found it hard to care about her, but even since their first meeting, he found it hard to hate her.

 

_She was so skinny that her dress was practically falling off her frame. He had seen the other Storms End prisoners before her, although for some reason he believed Stannis might have fed his own family a little better than random foot soldiers. Would a brother really allow his sister to starve? Her face was gaunt but her eyes stared at him. They had the decency to not lock her in a cell, but she was in a room guarded by armed guards._

_Her eyes followed him with every step he took, and only when he stopped did she speak. “Who are you?”_

_“I’m Alliser Thorne,” he said, somewhat surprised that they didn’t tell her already. His steps were heavy against the brick as he walked to her. He was taller, but not by much, but he stopped just short of getting to her. He didn’t say anything more, but she seemed to understand._

_“You are to be the new lord of the Storms.” The words sounded empty coming from her lips, and still felt strange for him to hear. “And I am to be your wife.”_

_“Does that bother you?” He wasn’t sure why he asked, it wasn’t as if her answer would change anything._

_“Stannis always told me I would be a Lords wife someday,” she admitted, her eyes meeting his. “I always figured it would be someone else though. But a lord is a lord I suppose.”_

_He had heard so much about the Baratheon’s, how they were full of the warrior spirit and each of them thought more with their hearts than their heads. They were strong, defiant. There was no surprise that the rebellion would be led by Robert, he was perhaps the epitome of what a Baratheon was. Hot-headed, fierce, he fought for what he claimed as his own._

_Carlys didn’t feel like a Baratheon. She felt like an empty girl._

_It was hard not to pity her, even though she was a traitor._

_“My brother, Renly, he will stay in Kings Landing?” She asked and he nodded. “And when I marry you, I will become Lady Thorne?”_

_“Yes, you will,” he said and backed away, walking back towards the door. He turned to her again, looking her over. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, looking out the window out to Kings Landing. “Have the sense not to rebel. You’ve been given a chance to be something other than a Baratheon, other than a traitor. Take it.”_

_She laughed. Her laugh was low, anything but pretty. “You can call me Lady Thorne all you want, Lord Alliser. I’m a stag. I was born a stag, and I will die a stag. Even if that means dying as a young stag.”_

_He recognized that more as a Baratheon attitude. He shook his head and left the room, as she continued to stare at nothing._

“Take Cedrick,” he handed her the baby and she looked down at him.

 

“Where are you going?” She asked, not expecting him to answer, but he did.

 

“King Rhaegar wanted to meet with the lords. I have to go.” He looked back at her as she held his child. “Don’t do anything stupid, Carlys. You’re not a Baratheon, you’re a Thorne.”

 

“Yes, my lord.” She said it without a hint of mocking in her tone, but he knew it was implied. He wasn’t sure why he let it slide so often, why he allowed such impudence. He could be hard on her, he often was back in Storms End. But when they were in Kings Landing, all he could ever see was the small girl whose family had just been killed.

 

He didn’t care for her, he decided. He pitied her.

 

But that could have just been the excuse he was making to himself.

 

He left the room without another word, hearing the laughter of his son and heir behind him.


	7. Tyrion

He had only been wearing the hand pin for a night and already Tyrion felt like he had more power than he could have imagined.”

 

He was a Lannister. As far as many people were concerned, the Lannisters’ held true power in the kingdom, they always had. They were the richest, and with Tywin at the helm, the most intimidating. Tyrion was his last surviving son after Jaime was killed for his part in the death of the Mad King, he had been the one to plunge the sword into the old man’s back. As the Lannister heir, it was expected that Tyrion would be put in a high position, ready to inherit the vast wealth and power that his father held.

 

But they didn’t know what Tyrion knew. That he may have been his father’s last son but that Tywin would never see him like that. Tywin saw him as pathetic, a drunk, an imp. He might as well have not have been his heir, even though Tywin didn’t have anyone else. Except perhaps Cersei, but she hadn’t been the same since the rebellion, since they lost Jaime.

 

Tyrion would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss Jaime, he cursed the loss every day. Jaime was the only member of his family to show him kindness. Even more, with Jaime around, Tywin seemed to care less about Tyrion and what he did. Even though Jaime had been in the Kingsguard, taken oaths to not inherit and never marry, Tywin still clearly held out hope that his true son could somehow become his heir once more.

 

The youngest Lannister jumped at the opportunity to go to Kings Landing and serve as Rhaegar’s hand of the king. When the time came for Rhaegar to name a new hand of the king, half of the realm thought that he would name his own brother, Viserys Targaryen. He had grown into a young man, it would have been fitting, and on the outside to the untrained eye, it would have been a good choice. The Targaryens did a good job to cultivate young Viserys’ image. Rumors had stirred though, rumors that had reached Casterly Rock of his uneven temper. It was no wonder that Rhaegar had looked elsewhere to find his hand.

 

That was how he found himself in the company of the King and three of his loyal lords. Rhaegar was getting himself a glass of wine while the rest sat in silence. Mace Tyrell wasn’t one that Tyrion had ever gotten along with, but at least he was amicable. He was boring as he talked, but at least he talked. Alliser Thorne was perhaps the prickliest man that he had met in his life. He never smiled, not even when he was given a young wife and Storms End, total control of the Storm Lands. He wouldn’t talk to Tyrion, he refused to look at him even. And finally, there was Benjen Stark. He wasn’t like the other lords in the room. He was clearly only loyal to the crown because his sister happened to be queen. He would look at Tyrion at least, but he never said anything. Perhaps before the rebellion he was a different person, but Tyrion only ever knew him as sullen.

 

Rhaegar returned to the group and took his seat at the head of the table. It was the small council room, but none of the small council was there but Tyrion. An informal gathering, one Tyrion would have urged the King against.

 

Tyrion took a sip of his wine, for once showing some restraint as he looked at the king. “So, your grace, why are we here exactly?” He asked, figuring he would have to be the one to break the ice. If he had waited for Mace to do it, they never would have gotten the Lord of the Reach quiet again.

 

Rhaegar considered the question. The dragon prince had a way of captivating all of those around him, it reminded Tyrion of Jaime in a lot of ways. “I wanted to be sure of your loyalty to the crown,” he said with a smile to them all. “And to find if you have heard anything more of certain… plans, made against us.”

 

Alliser and Mace perked up, but Benjen seemed as disinterested as ever.

 

“Plans?” Mace asked. “We haven’t heard of any plans in the Reach.”

 

“Your family have remained loyal to us, that is true,” Rhaegar knew as much as that, and Tyrion figured that trusting Mace wasn’t a bad idea. Mace was as simple as anyone, his family was a different story. The Queen of Thorns was a different story. Rhaegar shifted his gaze onto Alliser Thorne. “And you?”

 

Alliser didn’t seem caught off guard by the question, he didn’t even seem agitated, and they all knew why. Alliser Thorne was loyal to a fault, his family fought alongside the Targaryen’s even when it seemed they would lose, when the Lannister’s and Tyrell’s were close to flipping. But, he was married to a Baratheon, and the Baratheon’s had started the entire rebellion. Tyrion heard that there were whispers of “King Robert” in the Storms, that they called Carlys a princess.

 

Not even a loyalist like Alliser could avoid that stain on his family.

 

“There are some talks of people being disloyal in the Storms,” Alliser had to admit. Tyrion was surprised that he knew it at all. “But no one will make a move. Not while Renly Baratheon is here. Carlys knows the consequence of an uprising, and more of the Lords have become loyal day by day. They will listen to her if she says to stand down, for their prince.”

 

“Ah yes, because the Lords of the Storms will listen to a woman to protect a young man they’ve barely met,” Tyrion couldn’t help himself from quipping, and Alliser glanced at him.

 

“They will listen upon threats of death,” he said, clearly holding back an insulting comment. The hand of the king pin acted as a shield against petty insults.

 

“What about the North?” Tyrion looked at Benjen Stark. The Stark’s were known for their honor more than Alliser Thorne was, but they had risen in Rebellion along with the Baratheon’s, and Ned Stark had been just as involved as Robert. “Is the north’s loyalty truly with us?”

 

Benjen thought for a moment before nodding. “The north stands behind our queen. Behind Queen Lyanna.”

 

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. “And the king?”

 

“They stand behind the crown.” Benjen raised his gaze to look at Tyrion. “The king and queen, of course.”

 

Tyrion noted the careful wording. Starks were never known for being particularly sneaky, if they were going to attack, they would do it to your face. The pup was perhaps different.

 

“Five of your Kingdoms of seven isn’t bad at all,” Tyrion said, although he knew of the others. “But a king truly should control all seven.”

 

“Watch your tongue,” Alliser muttered but Rhaegar shook his head.

 

“He is right. It may have been years, but if there is a rebellion again then the kingdoms are still fractured. We need to stop an uprising as we see it,” Rhaegar said and put down his wine. “And I want the four of you to be by my side if a battle does break out. You are loyal, and I can trust you.”

 

Tyrion had barely been the hand of the king for an evening and he already saw Rhaegar’s flaws. He was nothing like his father, which in many ways was good. He was called the mad king for a reason. However, Rhaegar wanted to trust people. Tyrion had no doubt that Alliser Thorne would keep his mouth shut when told. Mace Tyrell wouldn’t mean to betray his king, but loose lips were the ones that sunk ships. Benjen… well, Tyrion couldn’t read him.

 

Which made him feel even more uneasy.

 

But he raised his glass to the other lords, and smiled broadly. “To our King.”

 

“To our King,” the other men repeated. Mace Tyrell let out a laugh, Rhaegar took a sip of wine, Allister looked at Tyrion, and Benjen Stark did nothing.

 

Tyrion almost wished it had been his father who was hand of the king, but he would never admit it. He was there to be sure that Rhaegar didn’t bring the kingdom to its knees in rebellion again.

 

But everyone in the capital felt the rising tensions, and the kingdom would break before it ever bent.    


	8. Carlys

If there was one thing that Carlys could say she truly loved about her husband, it would be his arrogance.

 

He wasn’t as outwardly arrogant as some other men in the kingdoms that she had met. Hell, Robert was far more arrogant in most aspects. She remembered when he would come home to Storms End to visit and talked about him and Ned Stark’s exploits for days and days until he had to leave again. No, Alliser wasn’t like Robert, he was probably the furthest thing from Robert. She had only heard Alliser’s rebellion stories a handful of times. No, he was more arrogant in a subtle way. He had only been at Storms End for fourteen years and he believed he owned it. He may have in title, but Carlys knew otherwise.

 

He had generations of Baratheon loyalty to compete with.

 

But, his arrogance gave him a blind spot. He trusted the workers who they had brought with them, the nurses who watched their children. Some of them were the nurses who helped to look after Carlys and Renly, true Storm women. So, when Carlys wanted to slip out without her husband hearing about it, she handed off Cedrick to one of the nurses.

 

“If my husband returns before I do, tell him I went to get air and tell him a castle guard escorted me,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t think twice if there was a Targaryen guard with her.

 

She walked the halls of the Red Keep, keeping her head down. Not that there were many guards around, not in the secluded area they were in. The guards would be where everyone important was, either still in the dining hall, or where the royals slept.

 

Carlys felt almost naked without her sword and proper clothing, her thin dress offering nothing to her in terms of protection. She hadn’t fought herself since the Rebellion, and even then she was greatly limited. Still, she felt as though she should have brought something.

 

She had left to search for her brother Renly before remembering that he was a ward for the Targaryen’s, the chances of him being away from their side was slim. Besides, outside of the public display like the feast, her brother had two armed guards on him at all times, as if they were just waiting to be the one to cut his throat at the sign of the rebellion. So, that was out. She walked past some guards, and kept her head down. If they had asked where she was going, she would have said to look for her husband, but they didn’t ask. They were dressed in Lannister red and gold, perhaps protecting Cersei or Tywin.

 

Tipsy men stumbled through the halls but gave her only glances, drunk men didn’t pay her any attention at all. The Red Keep was eerily quiet, she had only ever seen it during the day. She continued to walk, starting to think she should just go back, not risk the punishment from Alliser. He could withhold Renly from her.

 

“Carlys Baratheon.” She whirled around when she heard her name, her old name. A Dornish man walked closer to her, not a care in the world seemed to weigh him down. “Or, Carlys Thorne, I suppose.”

 

“Oberyn Martell.” She had heard of him more than she had seen him. The Red Viper of Dorne they called him. His eyes were locked on hers, and she didn’t flinch as he came closer. He took her hand and kissed the back of it softly.

 

“What are you doing here, Lady Carlys?” His accent was thick on every word, but the way he said her name was more pleasing to her than on the tongue of any other in Kings Landing. The Martell’s and the Baratheon’s had never been friends, particularly. But she remembered Renly’s words.

 

“I’m looking to get fresh air,” she said, “This castle is so confining.”

 

“Well, perhaps you can follow me. I have a balcony, you can have a glass of wine,” he offered his arm for her to take.

 

The thought of the two guards beside Renly flashed through her mind, the ones who would cut her brother’s throat at the sign of treason. But Renly had been the one to push her towards him.

 

She took his arm, and walked with him to his room.

 

They walked through the large room that had been set up for him and out to the balcony. It was a cloudless night, and a million stars shone in the sky. The air felt cold, winter was coming for Kings Landing, it may have been the wolf queen that invited it in.

 

She felt uneasy with Oberyn, and it wasn’t because of him. Oberyn was the only person in all the seven kingdoms who hated Rhaegar and Lyanna as much as she did, and as far as she knew that made him an ally. No, she thought of others in the kingdom, what they would think of the meeting if they knew. She had defied her husband many times, dancing with Renly was looked at with sideward glances, but this was different. Depending on what they discussed, it could be treason.

 

And yet there she was.

 

“I must admit, I’m surprised to see you in Kings Landing.” Oberyn smiled and gave her a glass, pulling out a bottle of Dornish red wine. “Your brother was unsure if you would be allowed to come. I suppose the new king doesn’t mind keeping his enemies close.”

 

Her lips twitched into a smirk as she held out the glass for him to pour some wine. “I believe you’re mistaken, Prince Oberyn. I am not an enemy of the crown.”

 

He laughed and filled her glass.

 

“Besides, you are the one whose family was shamed. I’m surprised you are here as well.”

 

He took a seat beside her and looked out over Kings Landing. In the dark of night it was hard to see anything more than outlines, but the Sept of Baylor was clear as day. “It is as if Rhaegar doesn’t know who he has dishonored. Or killed. Many families in his kingdoms feel disrespected.”

 

“Those wounds don’t fade with time.” She thought of her brothers, Robert and Stannis. Their deaths had left wounds on her heart, deep gashes that she felt could never heal.

 

Oberyn nodded in agreement and sipped his wine. “Your brother has many interesting things to say.”

 

Renly had said the same about Oberyn. “My brother is a fool who shouldn’t be saying such things,” she told him and he grinned.

 

“Your husband is not here, Lady Baratheon. You can speak freely.”

 

_Lady Baratheon._ It had been awhile since she had heard the name said deliberately, sincerely. She pushed the happiness from her mind.

 

“I’ve lost two brothers, Prince Martell. They fought, and they lost.” The words felt like a stab to the gut as they left her, even though she had said them a million times before. “But I cannot lose another. Renly is young, and foolish. He does not know what he speaks of when he speaks to you, and he is only tempting fate.”

 

“Your brother has more Baratheon in him than you think,” Oberyn told her. “He is a stag.”

 

She didn’t _want_ Renly to be a stag. Dragons killed stags. But still, she listened.

 

“It isn’t only our families who feel slighted by the King and Queen,” Oberyn continued, looking down at his wine. “Rhaegar has his friends, it’s true. But to gain his kingdom he had to make some angry. Fish, birds and lions.”

 

_Fish._ The Tully’s. They had an alliance with the Stark’s before the rebellion when Catelyn was betrothed to Brandon, and ultimately married Eddard. They had fought alongside the Stark’s for that, and they lost as well. They had always been a powerful house in the Riverlands, and as was Rhaegar’s way, he did not remove their power completely, but their head Hoster Tully had been killed. Under Lord Edmure, they bent the knee, became loyal to the crown, but they had suffered.

 

_Bird._ House Arryn. They had ruled in the vale for generations until Jon Arryn was killed. They had their power taken from them, Lysa Arryn was sent to the riverlands where her family lived. Both the Tully’s and the Arryn’s had far less power than they needed.

 

But a lion…

 

“Rhaegar Targaryen just named Tyrion Lannister hand of the king,” she said, “A title he seems to enjoy.”

 

“Tyrion Lannister does not rule his family.”

 

“Tywin?” She had only seen the patriarch of the Lannister family a few times. An intimidating man to be sure. The Targaryen’s killed his son, Jaime. She shook her head. “You have three kingdoms, _maybe_ , it isn’t as if the Tully’s and Arryn’s are all that strong.”

 

“Four, with the storms,” Oberyn suggested and Carlys paused.

 

“I am loyal to the throne. To my husband. House Thorne is sworn to the crown.”

 

“And house Baratheon?”

 

“House Baratheon is dead.” Another stab to the gut. She downed the rest of the wine. It was sweeter than what she was used to.

 

“What do you know of Benjen Stark?” Oberyn changed the subject and she raised an eyebrow.

 

“Enough to know that he won’t turn against his sister.” She had met the youngest wolf long ago. He was quiet, attached to his sister at the hip, but he was friendly enough. When the Baratheon’s still thought they would win the rebellion, Stannis told her there was a chance she would be married to Benjen, to truly solidify a Stark Baratheon alliance if Lyanna was dead. But when the rebellion died, and the truth was revealed about Lyanna, Benjen was the first to bend the knee, and he had gotten pardoned for everything. She couldn’t blame him, she had done the same thing.

 

“And his nephew, Robb Stark?” Oberyn asked and she paused. “It is said he will take control of Winterfell soon enough. His father was killed by the Targaryen’s…”

 

“They won’t turn against Lyanna,” she said concretely, and then sighed and stood. “She is my queen. We shouldn’t even be discussing this. I should return to my husband. My children.”

 

“If they are who you are worried about, we can assure their safety.”

 

She faltered slightly, but didn’t want to let him know that was true. “Rhaegar Targaryen is my king, and I cannot lose Renly.” She stood up straighter and handed him back the wine. The fear for her children really was lessened. She was telling the truth when she had told Alliser that she trusted him enough to not let them die. He may have been terrible in many ways, but he wouldn’t let them die. Renly on the other hand, he would kill himself if he got the chance.

 

“Perhaps we will see each other again.” Oberyn walked her inside and to his door. “We can discuss more plans.”

 

“There are no plans to discuss,” she said again. He kissed her cheek and smiled at her, and she gave a small smile back. “Thank you for your hospitality, Prince Oberyn.”

 

He opened the door for her and she walked out into the hall. Once it closed she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of air. It was a lot of information to process.

 

But she couldn’t do it there. She made her way back to her room, back to her husband.


	9. Alliser

Alliser always loved his daughter Helenys.

 

He had been hoping for his first child to be a son, a true heir to Storms End, but instead, Carlys gave him Helenys. For years, she was all he had, and many thought that she would be his heir. For that they started to teach her the ways of Westeros, and she was a smart girl. Cedrick was born though, and her claim to Storms End was gone, but her knowledge was not. She remained a smart girl, a serious girl who was fit to be a ruling lady. She was more like Alliser than Carlys would ever want to admit, but Alliser felt pride in that fact.

 

They had been brought a simple breakfast to their rooms, and as Carlys fed Cedrick away from them, Alliser ate with his daughter. She was focused on her food for a good while, before looking up at her father.

 

“Is mother a traitor?” She asked without warning, and he had to take pause.

 

“Why would you ask that?” He asked, deliberately avoiding the question. She pushed the food on her plate around, as if considering if she should answer the question, but eventually, she did.

 

“I heard others call her a traitor. But it was Robert who was the traitor, right?”

 

He wasn’t sure what to say to her. It was true that Carlys was a traitor, although she wasn’t allowed on the battlefield she had supported her brother in his rebellion. She stood with Stannis on the walls of Storms End and refused to leave, even when given countless opportunities to surrender herself. She had spoken ill of Rhaegar and Lyanna more times than he could count, although she was careful to not be treasonous, and it was when she thought he couldn’t hear her.

 

But Helenys was his daughter, Helenys was her daughter. As much as Carlys bothered him, as much as he knew the truth of her being a traitor, he didn’t want to turn her own daughter against her.

 

“Your mother bent the knee and swore loyalty to the crown like any other,” he said. “Her brothers fought against the crown, she did not.”

 

“Am I a traitor?”

 

“No, Helenys.”

 

“But I have Baratheon blood, and the Baratheon’s are traitors.”

 

“Helenys, you are not a traitor,” he said sternly. “I want no more of this talk.”

 

Helenys agreed, and soon she was led away by a handmaiden to dress for the day. Carlys returned and handed Cedrick off to a nurse. He made his way over to his wife, watching her silently for a minute. She may not have liked him, but he noticed how she had become comfortable with him. She always had a confidence in her, her back straight, her head held high. She wasn’t what he would call a proper lady, she avoided wearing dresses when possible, she knew how to fight better than any other lady he met, but she knew how to come off publicly as a good lady.

 

“There’s talk of you being a traitor,” Alliser said to her and she sighed. “And Helenys heard it. She asked me if you were one.”

 

“Did you say I was?”

 

“No.”

 

She nodded, her eyes shifting to him. “Thank you for that.”

 

“She’s your daughter as well as mine,” he said and walked to her. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with her again. “You need to watch yourself. Change these rumors.”

 

“I’m a Baratheon, Alliser, you know as well as I that these talks won’t stop no matter what I do. I’m married to a loyalist, I have two of his children, and still, they call me a traitor.” She looked at the ground, avoiding meeting his eyes.

 

“Just know that people are watching you. You must be careful in your actions.”

 

“I know how they watch me. Do you really believe I would do something to risk my brother?” She asked. “If I take a step out of line they will have a sword to his throat. I am loyal to our king and queen, you can believe me on that.”

 

It was the best argument she could have made. When she only said that she was loyal to the king and queen, it was clear to see that it was a lie. She hated the monarchs, everyone could see it. But she did love her brother if nothing else. She wouldn’t risk him, and he knew that for a fact. Besides, how could he expect anyone to trust her when he didn’t himself?

 

He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to fully trust her, but he nodded, breaking away from her to walk back across the room. “Alright, just keep yourself in line.” He warned.

 

She looked surprised that he would drop the subject so easily, and he was too in many ways. “How long are we going to stay here?” She asked, although didn’t have the usual animosity in her voice. In moments like those, it was enough to trick Alliser into believing they were a real married couple, one that cared for each other. She fastened a necklace around her neck.

 

“A few more days. We don’t need to stay for the whole tourney,” he admitted. In truth, he never enjoyed tourney’s, as good as he was at fighting, and rarely participated himself. Besides, as much as he liked the capital, being closer to the King and forging a stronger bond, it was ultimately a stress to have Carlys around her brother.

 

“We can stay for longer if you’d like,” she said and he glanced at her. She shrugged. “The King seems to have taken a liking to you. It could be good for the Storms to have a closer connection to the crown.”

 

He was still skeptical but nodded anyway. It wasn’t as if she would be left alone, he was almost always with her, or with a handmaiden or guard. And Renly always had two guards on him, he had seen them every time. If they even had a hint of treasonous discussion then Renly would be killed.

 

He wasn’t sure why he felt so uneasy this time around. They had ventured to the capital a few times since the rebellion, but there was something different about this time. Perhaps it was because of the company King Rhaegar had chosen to keep, inviting a potential firestorm into the capital, or perhaps it was just the feeling of inevitability that came with years of animosity and resentment.

 

But Rhaegar was a _good_ king. It wasn’t just Alliser’s loyalty that kept him serving him. Rhaegar didn’t have to have the mercy that he had after the rebellion, only killing the leaders of the rebellion. He didn’t have to spare Carlys and Renly, it probably would have been better if he hadn’t, but he did. He would have spared Stannis Baratheon too had he surrendered like his younger siblings, but they weren’t the only ones. The Tully’s kept Riverrun, Benjen Stark kept Winterfell. Truly he was a King of mercy, the opposite of his father. And yet, there were still people who would challenge him as king, who would ignore the good of the realm because of their own anger.

 

And Alliser’s wife was one of those people.

 

She walked to him and kissed his cheek lightly to bring him back to reality. Once he looked at her, she kissed his lips quickly and gave a small smile. She was an odd one for sure, and in any other marriage, the gesture would have been sweet.

 

But it just made Alliser distrust her again.

 

Of course, he didn’t say that.


	10. Rhaegar

“Jaehaerys, keep your shield up when you go to block.”

 

Rhaegar had been working through the same problems with his son’s technique for what felt like years. He always found time to train with him, and if he couldn’t he would get Arthur or Barristan to train the boy. Of course, they had a master of arms, but Rhaegar didn’t see the point. He wanted his son to be strong, to be able to defend himself.

 

They trained at the crack of dawn in the courtyard. It was always empty at that time, although there were some who watched from the sidelines. Lords and ladies from other kingdoms wanting to see the young prince train, which perhaps was making the boy more nervous. Arthur Dayne and Barristan Selmy always stood guard, and Renly Baratheon served as a squire for them both.

 

Rhaegar gave Jaehaerys an encouraging smile as he lowered his training sword. The sword always felt strange in Rhaegar’s hand. It was heavy and dull, so unlike what he would use in real battle. His real blade felt like an extension of his arm, the training sword felt simply like a sword. “Renly, bring us water,” he said to the young man.

 

The Baratheon hurried over with a skin of water, offering it first to Jaeherys who drank gratefully. He then brought it to Rhaegar. He took a drink of the cool water before handing it back. “Thank you, Renly.”

 

Renly beamed a kind smile back. “Of course, your grace.”

 

Renly was nothing like his oldest brother. Even before the rebellion Rhaegar found it hard to be around Robert Baratheon. He was a drunk, loud and boisterous. After what Lyanna told him about Robert, he only started to hate him more. He was tentative to take in a Baratheon ward, hating the thought of having a small Robert in the keep, around him and Lyanna. But, Renly had proven to be just the opposite. He was kind, polite, even charming in many ways. When Renly was younger, Rhaegar’s younger Viserys got along with him quite well. It was easy for him to forget that Renly was a ward, a glorified captive, he felt like another younger brother for Rhaegar.

 

But he grew, and despite what many in the kingdom thought, Rhaegar wasn’t completely naïve. He knew the danger of the grown stag. He had killed his brothers, married off his sister to a man she hated and taken him, prisoner, when he had not taken part in the rebellion at all. He knew the boy could spell danger.

 

But, he wasn’t about to mistreat him just at the chance that he could become dangerous.

 

“We are done for today,” Rhaegar told Jaehaerys, who nodded. His youngest son was the quietest of them all, much more like his mother, Lyanna. He was more expressive around his family, but the eyes on him made him fall into a mode of being the prince, the symbol for everyone.

 

“Yes, father.” Jaehaerys passed his sword to Renly, as did Rhaegar, and Renly put them away.

 

“Renly, take him to his room,” Rhaegar ordered, and Renly nodded.

 

“Certainly, your grace.” He was polite as ever. He led the young Targaryen into the Red Keep, two guards flanking him the entire time.

 

“Walk with me,” Rhaegar told the two members of the Kingsguard. He considered them both friends, but they were so formal around others. They walked into the Red Keep with him after Jaehaerys. Their swords swung by their sides, but Rhaegar wasn’t carrying his own.  He always thought it had made him look paranoid, and he wasn’t. He was cautious, he knew when he needed his own protection, and when he would be fine.

 

“It is a lovely day for a tournament,” Rhaegar said as they walked. “It is good to get this done before the winter hit. I think the Northerners would win such a tourney.”

 

“Yes, your grace.” Barristan’s voice sounded stiff as they walked, and Rhaegar cocked an eyebrow and glanced at the night. His eyes were straight and forward, his hand hovering close to his sword at all times.

 

Instead of asking the man himself, he turned to Arthur, who seemed on edge as well, but far calmer than his counterpart. “Why is he so on edge?” He asked curiously.

 

“There are many people from many different kingdoms here, your grace. He is only being cautious for your own safety,” Arthur explained, but Rhaegar shook his head.

 

“I assure you that is not necessary, you may calm yourself, Ser Barristan,” Rhaegar ordered. Barristan relaxed only slightly, but Rhaegar figured that would be the best he got.

 

Rhaegar always loved when the Red Keep was full of life. For years after the rebellion, no one would come, only the nobles of the crownlands. Half of it had been destroyed in the war, and they had to rebuilt. It was very quiet, and it felt odd. Rhaegar often found himself wandering Kings Landing instead of keeping himself locked away in the Red Keep. He was a king, and he wasn’t going to be the type of king who detached himself from his kingdom. That was the purpose of the tourney, of gathering every lord in Kings Landing.

 

He knew what his advisors thought, what his wife thought what Tyrion Lannister thought. They all saw him as a fool, and perhaps he was. But he was determined to not be like his father, before he had even gone mad. The mad king wouldn’t talk to his people, he wouldn’t talk to the nobles. It was how a rebellion was so easily struck up. Rhaegar knew he had played his part, but perhaps if it was only the problem with him and Lyanna, it wouldn’t have grown so large. Many of the noble families wanted to raise up arms against their king, they were prepared for that before Robert ever rallied them.

 

The new dragon king could feel the tension in the air, the winds of war were threatening to blow. If they were to rebel, perhaps Rhaegar could contain it more.

 

As they turned the corner, Rhaegar saw the one man in the kingdom who he didn’t want to. The Baratheon’s had been the most destroyed house from the rebellion, but he could control Renly and Carlys. They were young, alone. Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne was no such foe. The Dornish and the Targaryen’s hadn’t been friends for generations, but the marriage between Rhaegar and Elia had fixed that. It was arranged, and admittedly, Rhaegar did like Elia. He didn’t love her, he didn’t feel the same love for her that he did for Lyanna, he never did.

 

He hadn’t meant to insult Elia the way he had, but he wasn’t going to dishonor her by cheating. He dissolved their marriage, but Oberyn still took the slight. He was her older brother, and he wasn’t about to allow his sister to be thrown aside.

 

The Red Viper gave a smile that made Rhaegar feel uneasy, but he didn’t show it. He simply smiled back. “Hello, Prince Oberyn.”

 

“Hello, Rhaegar,” Oberyn said back. Rhaegar noted that he didn’t refer to him as king, but he wasn’t one to bring up such a trivial thing.

 

“May I help you with something?” Rhaegar asked, trying to remain friendly with him. “Or perhaps one of the guards can.”

 

“My niece and nephew, I was wanting to see them,” Oberyn said, still as calm as ever. He had a way about him though where Rhaegar could almost see the rage boiling up underneath.

 

But his request made the king internally breathe a sigh of relief. He did trust that Oberyn would never hurt Elia’s children. “Yes, of course. I will have guards bring them to you,” he said.

 

Oberyn bowed his head and made his way past the king and his guards, his eyes on them the entire time. Once he was out of sight, Rhaegar sighed and looked to his sides.

 

Arthur and Barristan were now both stiff, on guard.

 

Rhaegar gave a wary smile. “No need for that. Come now, I must see my wife.”


	11. Renly

Renly prided himself on how good he was at acting as a happy prisoner.

 

It was second nature to him, after years of living in the Red Keep with those who had taken him as a child, he was able to fool them. It was true, King Rhaegar had given him a good life, perhaps even a better life than he would have had in Storms End. Renly remembered his brothers well, Robert and Stannis. Robert was a drunk who wouldn’t give him a second glance, and Stannis was a humorless man who he was sure hated him. The youngest Baratheon never understood why Carlys loved them so much, it wasn’t as if their brothers were any better to her. Perhaps behind closed doors, they were, because she still mourned them both. Renly found that difficult to do for men he barely knew, for men he never loved.

 

He wasn’t angry with Rhaegar for killing them. They fought, and they lost. No, it was the two guards that flanked Renly that filled him with resentment. When he was younger, he believed that they were there to ensure he didn’t run away, and he was still sure that they did serve that purpose, but as he grew older, he learned the truth. They were there because if his sister did anything to turn against the crown, then it would be Renly who lost his head. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the one who had been a traitor, he had never raised a sword in rebellion, and before learning the purpose of the guards, he wouldn’t have.

 

He was a Baratheon, he was a tool to keep his sister in line.

 

That was what ignited the young man’s fury.

 

But Renly had a tool that Robert and Carlys never had: Patience. It was something that Stannis had in spades, he had held Storms End for the entire rebellion as he starved, he would have starved rather than give it up. But Baratheon’s were known for their fury, they were known for being hot-heads and acting with their hearts instead of their minds. It was why Robert rushed to war, it was why he knew that Carlys would murder the King and Queen given the chance.

 

He had waited and would wait longer for however long it took for a concrete plan to come into effect. The tourney was such a time for the plan to lay roots, especially for Renly. His guards were more relaxed when they should have been more on edge than ever. They let him dance with his sister, which planted the bug of Oberyn Martell. It would only grow from there.

 

He had gotten word that his sister had now met the Dornish Prince. Renly could only watch the wheels turn from there.

 

He made his way to the hall with the guards still with him. He had brought Prince Jaehaerys to his room. The boy was kind to him, better than Viserys Targaryen had become. Renly figured that Visery’s had gotten the madness that his family was known for, as well as the white hair and purple eyes. They had gotten along once, but now Viserys treated him like the dirt under his feet. Renly would be more offended if Viserys didn’t treat everyone that way, it wasn’t just him.

 

Renly walked through the great hall and mused at how few people were there to break their fast. They had either eaten in their rooms, or perhaps were too drunk to eat at all. He wouldn’t have been shocked at either. He saw no need to eat, even though he was somewhat hungry. His small frame made him easier to underestimate, and made his guards feel more at ease.

 

He went to the gardens and sat on one of the benches. He looked at his guards with a smile. “The gardens are empty. I am no threat to anyone.”

 

“You know we must stand guard,” the taller one said, and Renly shrugged. He wasn’t planning on meeting anyone anyway.

 

He simply sat, and enjoyed the garden for what it was. It wasn’t as if he had something else to do.

 

“Uncle Renly?” He turned at the small voice and looked over to see his niece. Helenys Thorne. Renly would be lying if he said he loved the girl, but it was more for lack of exposure than anything. She was an odd young lady, having the disposition of a fifty-year-old man. She reminded him more of Alliser than her mother Carlys, which was a shame.

 

But he smiled, more in surprise that she called him “uncle” Renly with her father standing right there. Alliser barely regarded Renly, which Renly found quite humorous.

 

“Hello Lady Helenys.” Renly took her hand and kissed it softly. He rose to his feet and smiled at Alliser. “And hello, brother.”

 

He always loved how uncomfortable Alliser seemed to get at the reminder that they were, in fact, brothers by law. Renly hated the fact too, but there were so few things that he could do for his own enjoyment.

 

“Come, Helenys,” Alliser told his daughter, but kept his gaze on Renly. “We should meet with your mother.”

 

Renly was tempted to join them, but he didn’t want to spend more time with Alliser than he had to.

 

“Send my love to my dear sister,” Renly requested. “I do hope she is happy in Storms End.”

 

“I will tell her, Uncle Renly.” Carlys must have groomed Helenys to call him uncle, although it still felt strange to hear. Helenys gave a slight smile. She was prettier when she smiled.

 

They left, and Renly was left alone again.

 

Renly settled back into the bench and glanced at the guards. They were ever serious, and Renly felt quite the opposite. He smiled, even though no one was watching.

 

He knew that there was always someone watching. And prisoners who were happy were never expected to escape.


	12. Carlys

It felt strange to Carlys to be without her husband in such a public area.

 

She initially thought it would feel freeing for her to be able to go down to the tourney grounds by herself when Alliser said he would bring Helenys down himself. That was before she realized that she was wading into a sea of Targaryen loyalists. Not a person among them was a friendly face that she knew, but she did see Cersei Lannister, the lioness. She wondered if she mourned her brother Jaime the way Carlys mourned Robert and Stannis when she stared out.

 

She sat in the stands as they set up for the tourney. It reminded her a lot of Robert, who loved tourneys more than any of their other family. He was good at them too, always the strongest fighter, or so she had heard. She had only seen him in a few tourneys, and that was when she was young. Stannis made her sit beside him the entire time as they watched their brother, and when she cheered for his victory Stannis would tell her to quiet down, said it was un-lady-like. She didn’t care, it only made her cheer harder. Robert was a Baratheon, she was a Baratheon. They had to cheer for each other, she thought.

 

It just made her sad to watch it getting set up. And angry. But she tried not to show it, she just sat by herself.

 

She heard the familiar clattering of armor beside her and looked up to see a Kingsguard. She believed he was Gerald Hightower, but she couldn’t recognize through his helm, and through her fury at seeing who stood beside him.

 

Lyanna Stark, or more accurately, Lyanna Targaryen. Queen Lyanna Targaryen.

 

She wiped the memories of Robert from her mind and replaced them with memories of Renly. He had two guards beside him that would love to end his life if she so much as stepped out of line with Lyanna. So, Carlys rose to her feet, and curtsied, just as she was taught to do as a young girl. It was awkward though, somewhat stilted.

 

“Your grace,” she kept her head bowed, more in an attempt to temper her own anger than out of respect. “How may I serve you?”

 

“That is not necessary, Lady Carlys. You may sit once again.”

 

Carlys did as she was told like an obedient puppy, and Lyanna took a seat beside her. Carlys could no longer see why Robert loved her so much, although she could in the past. Lyanna was the most beautiful woman in any room she walked into, but unlike other ladies she knew, she wasn’t only beautiful. She was kind, smart, and strong. Her strength was what Carlys admired most about her. She had heard that women of the north were different, but she saw it in Lyanna. She rode as well as her brothers, fought with the ferocity of a dire wolf. Robert loved her, although he only saw her beauty. Robert only ever saw beauty, most men did, she used to think.

 

But now, Carlys couldn’t see why he would go to war for her, why he would start a rebellion and try to overthrow the monarchy for her.

 

Why he would die for _her_.

 

“I wanted to speak with you,” Lyanna finally said, words that Carlys had been dreading. She didn’t want to talk to Lyanna, she didn’t want to look at her because every time she looked at her she felt her fury grow and build. Baratheon’s weren’t good at holding back emotions, they never had been. “We haven’t spoken since before the rebellion. Not alone.”

 

_‘We aren’t alone with your kingsguard right there,’_ was what she wanted to say. But instead, she said, “Yes, my queen.” The words made her feel sick.

 

“I did not mean for the rebellion to happen as it did,” she said. “My brother Brandon… reacted harshly to my disappearance, left before I could send word to him. The Mad King killed him, and my father and the rebellion started before anyone could stop it.”

 

_‘The rebellion started when you ran off with the king.’_ Carlys kept her mouth shut and nodded meekly.

 

“I lost brothers in the rebellion too,” Lyanna said, and Carlys turned to look at her. Her eyes weren’t filled with tears, but she could see the sorrow behind them. Neither of the women would show their weakness, it wasn’t their way. “I will never forgive myself for their deaths. But they were warriors, they fought, they rode into battle, and they lost.”

 

“Stannis never rode into battle,” she said, thinking of her brother. “He was doing his duty, holding Storms End, and he was killed. He was skin and bones by the time they got into Storms End, he could barely stand let alone swing a sword. And he was killed.” She saw him killed.

 

“Stannis was a fighter like the rest,” Lyanna said, still as calm as ever.

 

“Don’t pretend that you are like me.” Carlys turned back out to look at the grounds for the tourney, it was the only way to quell the fire inside of her. “I lost my brothers, all of them. Renly will be a casualty of this war someday with how he has guards by his side, not to guard him but to kill him. I did my duty, married a man I barely knew to protect my family, disavowed my dead brothers as traitors to protect my family.” She paused and ground her teeth, holding her tongue as to not say something to get herself killed, to get Renly killed. “They are traitors, both of them. You are my queen. I thank you for blessing me with your presence.”

 

She couldn’t get the last sentence out without some venom.

 

But Lyanna was still calm, filled with anger if nothing else. She was a Stark, she was still the same woman that she was before the rebellion. With so many around, however, she kept her calm and simply nodded.

 

Carlys breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the Direwolf banner of Robb Stark, perhaps her nephew could get Lyanna to leave.

 

Lyanna looked at Carlys. “Renly is safe with us. He is a good man. We wouldn’t hurt him. You have no reason to trust me, but you can.”

 

And with that, she was gone.

 

Carlys didn’t trust her with Renly, she wouldn’t feel comfortable until her brother was at her side with a seat in Storms End, with her own guards beside him to be sure that he didn’t die.

 

She looked around herself and paused when she saw the eyes of Cersei Lannister meet her own. Cersei held the gaze for only a moment before breaking apart to look back at the tourney, but it still made Carlys wonder.

 

Perhaps Oberyn was making sense. A Baratheon had to let out her fury at some point, and with strong allies, her fury could hit hard.


	13. Robb

Robb Stark could never really say how much he hated being in Kings Landing.

 

He knew he didn’t have the same anger as many of the people there after the rebellion. Some grudges were legendary, so much so that his mother warned that if he saw certain people together he should expect a fight. Many people had lost so much in the rebellion, their families and loved ones, their homes, and their titles. Robb hadn’t lost so much, he grew up in Winterfell, bore the Stark name. His Uncle Benjen even ensured him that he would have his rightful seat at Winterfell, one he would ascend soon enough.

 

Perhaps it was because of his mother that he felt resentment anyway. Robb never knew his father, Eddard Stark, he died before he even got the chance to see Robb as a baby. He was barely born by the time the rebellion had ended, his father dead, his mother's house shamed. But his aunt was in Kings Landing, not only had she survived but she was the queen. He never spent much time with his Aunt Lyanna, his mother Catelyn didn’t like going to Kings Landing, and his Uncle Benjen went only when summoned. He always remembered how kind she was to him, how when a drunken knight called him a traitors son she stood up for him as if she was his own mother and he saw why she was so often referred to as the Lady Wolf. She was strong, she was fierce, she loved him so dearly.

 

But then he learned that she may have had a reason to why she treated him with such kindness.

 

When he was visiting Riverrun with his mother, he had snuck away from her and his Uncle Edmure and heard his Aunt Lysa and the Blackfish talking about the rebellion. His mother always warned him that his aunt wasn’t stable, so he tried to keep his distance, but he heard them talking about Lyanna. She had been betrothed to Robert Baratheon, and she had run away from the engagement to be with Rhaegar Targaryen. No warning, no letter. At first, Robb felt conflicted. He had heard many varying reports of how Lord Robert Baratheon was, many said he was a drunk, he was unstable, unfit to marry a girl such as Lyanna Stark. Could Robb truly judge her for running away from such a marriage?

 

He wasn’t sure how to feel until one day he talked to his uncle. Benjen had always been quiet, and somber. But when Robb asked about his father, about his role in the rebellion, he fell particularly silent, as if he didn’t know what to say.

 

 _“Many men wanted many different things in the rebellion,”_ Benjen finally said after the silence had passed. He wouldn’t look his nephew in the eyes. _“But your father only wanted his sister back. So did your Uncle Brandon, and your Grandfather… they didn’t want to be king. They only wanted her back home.”_

Robb wasn’t sure how he would feel about seeing his aunt. But when she came to greet him as he rode up to the Red Keep, he knew.

 

She was the reason he grew up without a father.

 

He looked to his mother for guidance. Catelyn Stark got off her horse and curtsied respectfully to Lyanna. “My Queen,” she greeted, bowing her head. Lyanna smiled at her, and his mother smiled back. Robb wondered if she actually liked his aunt, or if perhaps she was much better at pretending than he was. He got down off his horse and walked to them, but didn’t bow.

 

Lyanna didn’t seem to care. She smiled and walked to him, wrapping her arms around him to hug him. “Robb. You’ve grown.”

 

“Hello Aunt Lyanna,” he said, and Catelyn shot him a glance. He knew he should have called her queen, but again Lyanna didn’t seem to mind. She pulled back to look at him again.

 

“You look so much like your father…” Her voice sounded sad, but Robb froze.

 

He had sworn himself to the King and the Queen, bent the knee along with his uncle when he was old enough. They had sworn Winterfell to the crown, sworn their banners and sworn to protect them at all cost. If there was one thing that his uncle taught him, it was that Starks were nothing without their honor. Their word was their bond, and when they made a vow they had to follow it.

 

But hadn’t Lyanna broken her vow to marry Robert?

 

“Robb.”

 

When he heard another voice, he broke into a smile. A true, genuine one. Jaehaerys Targaryen strode across the yard to greet his cousin, and Robb couldn’t have appreciated it more. Even though they barely saw each other, Robb and Jaehaerys had always gotten along. Robb broke away from Lyanna, regrettably leaving his poor mother with the woman who had gotten her husband killed.

 

The cousins shared a quick hug before Jaehaerys smiled at him. “Are you participating in the tourney?” He asked and Robb smirked.

 

“Do you think I would ride all the way down to Kings Landing if I wasn’t?” He joked and Jaehaerys let out a laugh. “Will you be participating?”

 

“Yes,” Jaehaerys said, “I should hope we don’t meet each other out on the field.”

 

“I should hope so as well. I’ve heard that you have Kingsguard training you here.” He had heard the stories of Ser Arthur Dayne and Barristan the Bold, and a part of him was jealous of his cousin.

 

Jaehaerys grinned and led him inside.

 

“Some of the greatest fighters in the world are here,” Jaehaerys explained as they walked. “The Kingsgaurd, yes, but there are others. The Knight of Flowers is impressive, I saw him practicing yesterday. The Red Viper as well, although he fights with a spear and not a sword.”

 

Robb cocked an eyebrow. “Oberyn Martell is here?” He asked, and Jaehaerys nodded. “I’m surprised. I didn’t think he would come after what happened with Lady Elia.”

 

Jaehaerys went quiet, and Robb realized his mistake. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s alright,” Jaehaerys said. “In truth, I don’t know why father invited them. Not only him. I saw Cersei Lannister today, she looked at me as though she wanted to eat me.”

 

“She is a lioness,” Robb joked.

 

Jaehaerys laughed and clapped Robb on the back. “At least now we have family in the capital. Wolves and dragons keep lions and others at bay.”

 

Robb felt a pang of guilt in his heart but only smiled at his cousin.

 

It wasn’t his fault that Jaehaerys’ mother had Robb’s father killed.


	14. Oberyn

Oberyn had been biding his time for thirteen years.

 

Ever since he had heard what Rhaegar Targaryen did to his sister, he wanted him dead. Elia, his sister, his beautiful sister who’s smile lit up a room, had been left for the wolf, for the Stark girl Lyanna. Rhaegar had dissolved their marriage, taken away her rightful title as queen and given it to some fifteen-year-old girl he had just met. The dishonor was hard enough to swallow and would have given Oberyn enough reason to hate the man, but what truly made the Red Viper murderous was how Rhaegar took their children. Elia couldn’t live in the Red Keep, for obvious reasons, but Aegon and Rhaenys were still the prince and princess, even if Rhaegar declared that Jaehaerys would be his true heir, and the two children were kept in Kings Landing. Away from their mother.

 

Oberyn’s heart broke every time he heard Elia wail for her children. She never cared about the dragon king, although she loved him once, but it was her children who truly meant the world to her. Oberyn knew that it was because of the king that Elia would not speak to anyone, she didn’t feel like herself. Just an empty husk of the vibrant woman she once was.

 

Her brother treasured the sleep he had at night, with a reoccurring dream that he was plunging his spear into the belly of the dragon king.

 

Rhaenys released the hug from her uncle and smiled at him sweetly. She had grown into quite the beautiful young woman, with Targaryen features, but all Oberyn saw was Elia.

 

“I will cheer for you at the tournament, Uncle Oberyn,” Rhaenys said and he smiled, kissing her hair. She was as precious to him as his own daughters back home.

 

“Then I should be sure to win for you,” he assured her. “Run along, find your family.”

 

She hurried off, following in the footsteps of Aegon who had left before. Once they were gone, Oberyn walked away as well, having one specific person that he wanted to see.

 

He walked through the gardens and saw Renly Baratheon sitting with his two guards. He was careful not to acknowledge the man, not wanting to give any reason for suspicion, so simply walked past. He wasn’t who he was looking for anyway. He walked through to get to the wall that looked over the sea, walking up many steps and over the cobblestone paths, he saw the man he was looking for, and approached.

 

Tywin Lannister had a reputation that preceded him. Even though he was an older man, having never been a great warrior, he was perhaps the most feared man in Westeros, one of the richest as well. The lion of Casterly Rock was as patient as Oberyn, and the red viper knew that Tywin had been biding his time on attacking the king as well. Rhaegar had made many enemies when defeated Robert Baratheon when he ran away with Lyanna Stark, but away from all of that, there was the enemy he had made out of Tywin. Jaime Lannister had been taken into the Kingsguard when he was only sixteen, a slight that Tywin did not ignore. They took away his strongest male heir, and what was worse was after the rebellion, when it was found out that Jaime Lannister had been the one to kill the Mad King, they took his head off for it.  An attack on Tywin Lannister’s child was an attack on Tywin Lannister.

 

Rhaegar should have stepped more carefully.

 

Oberyn looked out over the ocean as it shimmered under the sun. It wasn’t as beautiful as the view in Dorne, he decided, the air wasn’t as crisp and the sun wasn’t as hot.

 

“Lord Tywin,” Oberyn broke the silence himself, sensing that Tywin wouldn’t be the one to do it. “How nice it is to see you again.” In truth, it was never nice to see Tywin. He was a hard, cold man, not someone that Oberyn would usually like to associate himself with, but their interests just happened to align. “How are our friends in the Riverlands?”

 

He and Tywin had been discussing the possibility of an alliance for nearly a year, after it became clear to both that they could help each other. Tywin hated the Dornish Prince, and Oberyn wasn’t too fond of any Lannister, but their hatred of Rhaegar Targaryen fueled them both. It was settled that Tywin would gather allies from the Riverlands and the Vale, two of the kingdoms that could stomach the Lannisters, and Oberyn would try to get the Storms.

 

“They are the same as they have always been,” Tywin said, “Insulted by the dragon but tentative to make another rebellion.”

 

“They want to be assured safety this time,” Oberyn explained.

 

“No one can assure safety.” Tywin’s gaze was fixed out towards the ocean as well, but Oberyn figured he wasn’t enjoying the sights. His arms were folded across his chest, making him appear bigger and stronger.

 

But Oberyn wasn’t intimidated. “Carlys Baratheon came to me last night.”

 

“And?”

 

“She lives under the thumb of her husband, but not under his control. Her hatred for Rhaegar may just outshine ours,” he admitted. “But she won’t make a move against him while her brother is still in danger. Until Renly is safe, we don’t have the Storms.”

 

“I see.”

 

Oberyn took a pause to look back out over the ocean. It was dulled as clouds covered the sun. “The wolf landed today though. The North are powerful allies.”

 

“A northerner sits on the throne,” Tywin reminded him, and Oberyn shrugged.

 

“That doesn’t mean loyalty, not after what she did,” he said, thinking about the night before. “Carlys said that Benjen would not turn against Lyanna, but Robb may be a different tale. We will have to approach cautiously, but it may be wise to approach.”

 

“You approach the wolf.” Tywin turned abruptly and began to walk away. Oberyn frowned.

 

“And you?”

 

“I will secure the stag.”

 

Oberyn watched him as he left, unsure if it would be safe to approach either Renly or Carlys. The two had been labeled traitors, and if Rhaegar was smart he would be looking at Tywin Lannister sideways as well.

 

But Rhaegar had been the one to invite them all to the Red Keep, to give them a garden to plant their seeds. For that, Oberyn didn’t worry.

 

He just imagined plunging his spear into Rhaegar's belly, taking his kingdom and his throne, and then he smiled.


	15. Renly

“Did you speak with the Viper?”

 

It felt odd to talk about such things openly for Renly, he was so used to being careful, communicating through glances and implied meanings. But he sat with his sister, holding her baby. His guards were close, but the music in the hall played so loud and even it was drowned out by the discussion, but if he talked quietly it was fine. The guards were barely paying attention, anyway. Renly figured he looked just like a doting uncle, wanting to spend time with the nephew he barely got to see. Cedrick was surprisingly quiet, given the noise that was all around him.

 

Carlys was not as calm as her baby. She gave Renly’s leg a small kick, but it barely hurt. “Don’t talk like that.”

 

“It was a simple question, sister.” Renly smiled and then looked down at Cedrick. “You can’t move slowly on matters such as this. They want to know if you will be loyal to them. You don’t want to be left behind.”

 

“It’s as if you want to die,” she muttered under her breath, but he heard. “I did speak to him. His head is full of fantasies, and he cannot assure your safety. I will not lose another brother to another failed… I will not lose another brother.” She couldn’t risk saying the word rebellion.

 

Cedrick wiggled in his arms and Renly smiled at the little baby. There were footsteps all around them, but when certain people approached, there was a certain sense of it. Renly heard him approach, and knew the King stood behind him.

 

Although Carlys’ expression showed it more than anything. Anger mixed with fear.

 

“Your grace.” She stood and curtsied. Renly turned to look at him just as Rhaegar waved her off.

 

“Please, m’lady, none of that is necessary.” Rhaegar grinned. Renly knew the king enough to know he was genuine in his kindness, but he also knew his sister well enough to know she still didn’t believe him. Her hatred overshadowed anything Rhaegar could have possibly done.

 

“Do you need me, your grace?” Renly asked and stood out of respect as well. Cedrick laughed and Rhaegar turned his eyes to the baby.

 

“No Renly, that is alright,” Rhaegar said as he reached out and touched Cedrick’s small hand. “He is a lovely child. Your first son, yes?” He glanced back to Carlys.

 

“Third,” she said, “Robert and Stannis were dead before they were born though.”

 

Renly wasn’t sure if Carlys had actually named her children Robert and Stannis, if her husband would allow that, or if she was just saying it because her anger was ignited by Rhaegar. In many ways, Renly saw her as the worst possibly combination of Robert and Stannis. She was too cautious, like Stannis, like him she would lock herself in Storms End for years upon years, starving herself in defiance. But in the worst possible times, Robert would come out. Too cautious to join the rebellion that could free them, but hot-headed enough to end up getting Renly killed anyway.

 

Perhaps there was a reason she loved their brothers so much.

 

Rhaegar didn’t seem fazed though. “I am sorry for your loss.”

 

Carlys wasn’t sure how to respond.

 

“He’s going to grow into a true warrior, like his father,” Renly commented, trying to get the conversation to something less controversial. He had heard stories of Alliser, saying he was a talented knight, and if Renly pretended to respect the man then it might look good to Rhaegar.

 

“Yes, it seems so,” Rhaegar said and smiled again at the baby. Renly passed Cedrick back to his mother. “I do hope you two enjoy the feast.”

 

Rhaegar walked away, but Renly’s guards did return, the king must have signaled for them.

 

“I don’t know how you can smile at him,” Carlys muttered. “It takes everything I have not to snap when I see him.”

 

“Sometimes, it is easier to act a part,” Renly told her quietly. “Besides, the king isn’t so bad.” He wanted to rebel to be free of his current situation, but in truth Rhaegar was more family to him than she was at some times, he was kind to him.

 

“Rhaegar killed our brothers.”

 

“Robert was a drunk and Stannis was dull and too serious.” Renly could tell from the look in her eyes that if Carlys hadn’t been holding Cedrick, she would have slapped him. “They never cared for anything, well, Robert cared for Lyanna because she was beautiful, but he was a traitor. And you never loved them when they were alive.”

 

“They were my brothers, of course I loved them,” she said and he shook his head.

 

“They were dreadful to you. You were dreadful to them.”

 

“You were small then, what do you know of it?”

 

“More than you do, it seems.” He shook his head. “It seems you are the one with a death wish for me, however. To talk defiantly to the king? Were those babies of yours even named Robert and Stannis?”

 

“They were never given names really,” she admitted, “But in my heart, those were the names.”

 

“That’s charming,” he quipped. He knew again that she would have slapped him, not that he cared. He did care for his sister, she had always been the sibling that was kind to him, although only at times. She was a Baratheon, like their brothers. A loud, boisterous Baratheon. They were all cruel to each other at times, it seemed to be a family tradition. She was the only family he had left though. “We should thank the king, for securing us both our lives. It has been nice to see you again,” Renly said loud enough for his guards to hear.

 

She faked a smile as well. “Yes, we should. I must take Cedrick to his room, however.”

 

“Of course.” Renly stepped forward and touched the baby’s cheek again, and then kissed Carlys on the cheek softly before whispering, “Oberyn will allow you to unleash your fury onto those you hate. He doesn’t speak of fantasy, he speaks of fact. Speak to him again.”

 

Carlys paused, but then didn’t respond. She kissed Renly on the cheek before hurrying away.

 

Renly sighed. He considered himself privileged to have inherited the brains of the family, something he could have sworn the rest of his family lacked. He straightened his posture and glanced at his guards before going to find some Targaryen loyalists to talk to.

 

To look as though he was one himself.


	16. Carlys

Carlys was still angry at Renly by the time Cedrick was asleep and settled.

 

It, of course, wasn’t the same level of anger she had for others, she knew it was fleeting and would pass. He was only a stupid boy, he always had been. Stannis told her that time and time again, but then again Stannis had called her a stupid girl as well. She always knew that Renly didn’t have the same connection to their brothers as she had, and perhaps he was right in the fact that she didn’t even have the relationship she thought she had. Robert was a drunk, and Stannis was drunk and far too serious.

 

But they were her brothers, and Renly’s words still made her angry.

 

_“Get him to stop whining,” Stannis ordered her of Renly during the siege. Renly had been complaining about his hunger for some time, but he was young then, and he was starving to death. Outside the castle walls, Mace Tyrell’s army blew more horns, and Stannis closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose._

_“I’m not his mother, he won’t calm for me,” Carlys told him. Her stomach rumbled, but she hid her hunger better than Renly did. She knew enough to know how stressed Stannis truly was, even though he wouldn’t show it to anyone else. “He’s starving, many men are.”_

_“Eat the cats,” he ordered._

_“We’ve eaten the cats.”_

_“The dogs.”_

_“Them too.”_

_Stannis stood again, wobbling on his feet for only a second before balancing himself. He was as starving as anyone, his clothes hung off his body. “If the cats are all dead then the rats will be everywhere. Catch them and eat them.”_

_Carlys wrinkled her nose and nodded. “Yes, Stannis.”_

_“My lord.”_

_“Pardon?”_

_“I am your lord, Carlys.”_

_“You are also my brother,” she said, but then added, “My lord,” as to not anger him._

_Stannis nodded in approval. “Good. And if Renly thinks to complain again, then send him to his room. If he intends to act like a child, he will be treated like one.”_

_“Yes.” Carlys paused, considering her next question carefully. Stannis shifted his gaze to look at her._

_“Spit it out, Carlys.”_

_“Stannis, perhaps we should surrender,” she said, although the look on Stannis’ face told her it was the wrong thing to say. “Robert lost. He’s…” she trailed off to not say the fact. Robert was dead, killed at the trident. “He’s not coming back. No one is coming to help us; the rebellion is over. If we surrender then they may show mercy, they may spare our lives. Men are dying by the day, there are talks of a rebellion within our walls.”_

_“The rebels will die,” Stannis said it as if it was fact, and she closed her eyes._

_“We will die, Stannis. All of us.”_

_“And what are our lives worth?” Stannis walked to her and she avoided meeting his gaze. “Look at me,” he ordered, and she looked up. Their eyes met. “We are Baratheon’s, Carlys. This is our home, and those men outside the walls would take it from us. They would exile us or take our heads from our shoulders. I intend to die with a sword in my hand if I am to die at all. We do not surrender, is that clear?”_

_She nodded. “We do not surrender,” she repeated._

_“Good,” he said. He looked exhausted, but there was still strength in her brother, a strength she had never seen in another man. “Now go.”_

Carlys had played that conversation in her mind more times than she could count. She had surrendered, she had bent the knee, all to save the childish boy who hated their family.

 

But Renly was her family. She had to keep reminding herself of that. He was her family, and just like Stannis and Robert, she loved him. Even if she wasn’t always sure why.

 

“What are you doing up here?”

 

She turned around to see Alliser, settling herself when it was only him. She shrugged and fixed her dress. “Only putting Cedrick down.”

 

“You could have sent a nurse to do that,” he pointed out.

 

“It was a good excuse to leave,” she said. “To give myself a moment alone.”

 

“Did you look at our king and seethe with anger again?” The tone he used was so mocking, it made her laugh, although she wasn’t entirely sure why.

 

“Renly, actually,” she admitted. Again, she wasn’t sure why.

 

“I never did like him.”

 

“You don’t like anyone.”

 

He didn’t deny it. “What did he do to anger you?”

 

“He truly hates our brothers,” she said and sighed. “I suppose he was too young to really know them, but they are his family. And he hates them. Hated? I don’t know.”

 

“Either works.” Alliser walked across the room and poured two glasses of wine. He handed one to her when he got nearer. “Your brothers were traitors, and now they are dead. That is how war works. They are your past. Handle their deaths and stop mourning already.”

 

Carlys would be surprised, but she had dealt with Alliser’s bluntness for years. “Family isn’t a past, it’s a constant.” She sipped the wine and looked at him. “Why are you here?”

 

“I was looking for you,” he said, “You need to get ready to leave tomorrow.”

 

Her eyebrows raised. “What? Why? I thought that King Rhaegar had been meeting with you.”

 

“He has.” Alliser drank some wine before looking back at his wife. “Which is why I will stay, and you will leave with the children.”

 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” she growled and he shook his head.

 

“You haven’t. But you must have felt it down there. It felt the same before the first rebellion. The tension.” He studied her closely, she hated when he looked at her like that. He did it earlier in their marriage, she figured as a way to figure out what he could say to hurt her most. He was good at that. But this time, he didn’t say anything to harm her. “If the kingdom starts to break then there is no point in you and the children being here.”

 

She paused. “So, you trust me, you just want me out of the way?”

 

“As much as I can trust a traitor.”

 

That made her laugh again. From anyone else, the blatant disrespect would have triggered her anger, brought out the Baratheon side of her, if he had said it in front of anyone else then it would have. But her and Alliser had been together for so long she had stopped caring. She stopped expecting him to be kind, to be caring and respecting. She figured that he had done the same expecting anything from her. They had seen sides of each other that showed there was more than anger and bitterness, but in general, they had accepted what they had.

 

Carlys thought about leaving Kings Landing. A part of her was relieved, she always hated the place, and she could go back home with her children, to her home. The other part of her thought about Oberyn, about his discussions of rebelling and about Renly. Renly’s boldness could come from her, if she left perhaps he would stop risking so much of himself on the fantasies of a Dornishman.

 

She downed the rest of her wine and then nodded. “Tomorrow it is then,” she said with a small smile.


	17. Tyrion

Tyrion hated being woken up so early by pounding on his door.

 

He had to adopt a more respectable demeanor to be Hand of the King, so his drinking hadn’t gotten out of control the night before. But he had enjoyed his wine, and he was intending to sleep through a headache. He didn’t respond the first time, and only when they knocked again did he groan.

 

“Is someone dying?” He demanded to know as he sat up.

 

“Not _dying_ , my lord.” It was the voice of Barristan Selmy, which made Tyrion frown. Why would they send a Kingsguard just to fetch him? “The King requests your service.”

 

Out of curiosity, Tyrion got dressed and walked with the knight where he was led. He was almost expecting to be told that there had been an attempted attack on the king, that they had tried to murder Rhaegar. There were plenty in the capital who wanted his head for sure, Tyrion’s father being one of them. But Barristan didn’t say a word. Tyrion wasn’t sure if that calmed him, or set him more on edge.

 

“Are you not going to tell me why you woke me at such a dreadful hour?” Tyrion asked, and Barristan glanced at him.

 

“The king told me not to say,” he said. Tyrion knew that he couldn’t get it out of him then. Barristan was nothing if not honorable.

 

“I guess I will have to wait and see. I hope it’s a good surprise,” Tyrion joked, dreading what he was being led to.

 

He was led down a hall he wasn’t expecting, where there were smaller chambers for people who were far less important than Rhaegar Targaryen. Barristan pushed open one of the doors, and Tyrion looked inside. Rhaegar was there, as well as many guards including Arthur Dayne, and the two that watched Renly. When Tyrion looked at the bed, his heart sank.

 

Renly Baratheon looked as though he was sleeping at first glance, but as Tyrion walked closer, he saw the truth. The boy was as pale as a cloud, all the blood drained from his skin. Blood stained the emerald sheets he lay on top of. There was a dark red gash across his throat that no longer bled. The smell in the air was thick of iron from the blood.

 

Tyrion turned his attention to the guards. “You killed him,” he said, walking closer. “What could he have possibly done to make you slit his throat in the night?” They all knew the true purposes of the guards, but one of them stood tall.

 

“We didn’t kill him,” the taller one said.

 

“Then why didn’t you guard him?” Tyrion was incredulous at the stupidity, his mind already going a mile a second with the consequences of the death. Renly Baratheon was a prisoner, and he was a prisoner for a reason. He was far more valuable alive than he was dead.

 

“They snuck in through the window, we were guarding outside his door,” the other guard said, and Tyrion groaned and closed his eyes. He shook his head before opening them again and looking at Rhaegar.

 

The king looked as white as Renly did, although it couldn’t have been from the scene. Rhaegar was a warrior, he had killed many himself, he was used to blood. But he stared at Renly, at the body in front of him.

 

“The Targaryen’s didn’t order his death?” Tyrion had to ask to be sure, but the King’s head snapped to him.

 

“No,” Rhaegar said sternly. “We had no reason to do so. He wasn’t doing anything. Not enough to make us kill him.”

 

Tyrion groaned, pacing the room. Everyone else was quiet. “There goes our leverage over the Storms,” he said as a fact. He thought of Carlys Baratheon, the woman who threatened to unleash her fury over the deaths of her warrior brothers who had died years before. What would she think of the one who had been murdered in his bed?

 

“Perhaps we don’t tell her?” One of the guards suggested and Tyrion blinked.

 

“I think she will notice her brother’s sudden disappearance,” Tyrion said incredulously.

 

“She is supposed to be leaving today,” Rhaegar said, looking at Tyrion. “Thorne said he was sending her home today. We get her away from the capital, and then we tell her of Renly’s death.”

 

“She’s more dangerous in the Storms then she is here. She can call her banners in the Storms… she would be away from the others though.”

 

Rhaegar may not have been the smartest king in the world, but at least he realized the trouble they could be in for with the death of Renly. Tyrion had seen the lords as they whispered, and he could feel the tension as it threatened to boil over. The other lords were smart though, predictable. If they made a move it would be carefully plotted out and considered. It would give time for the crown to learn who was involved, for Varys to get whispers from his little birds and for them to plan. Carlys was different in the way that her brother Robert was different. Stags didn’t think, they didn’t plot. They moved and they made their attack, and they got killed.

 

But the last time a stag attacked it led to a war that ravaged the kingdom.

 

“Your grace, who else knows of the death?” Tyrion asked Rhaegar.

 

“Only those in this room,” he said, but Arthur Dayne shook his head.

 

“And the one who killed him, your grace,” Arthur said, looking at Tyrion. “Someone had to hold the blade who killed him. Whoever did, knows of his death.”

 

“And whoever did will probably tell Carlys Baratheon about her brother’s demise,” Tyrion finished the thought. Perhaps someone wanted to set her off, he thought to himself. There was no chance that the Storms would stand behind Alliser Thorne, they had been serving the Baratheon’s for generations upon generations and would gladly fight to avenge the death of their liege lords. They had three dead ones to fight for now, and a lady who would rally them. They couldn’t even imprison the girl, that would only give the Storm Lords another thing to rally behind.

 

“Prepare your guards, and the city watch,” Tyrion declared. “To be safe. If something is going to happen, it’s going to happen today. Guard the king,” he told Barristan and Arthur, who both nodded.

 

Tyrion turned and left the room, but he heard the footsteps of the dragon king behind him. The hall was near empty, no one around to hear. Every step echoed, every breath they took sounding as loud as steel against steel. Tyrion swore his heartbeat was as loud as well.

 

“What do you suggest I do with the Baratheon girl?” Rhaegar asked after a moment, and Tyrion thought.

 

“We tell her about her brother,” he said. “And we pray to all seven gods that she is less like her brothers than we thought.”

 

Tyrion knew that there were no gods that could answer that prayer.


	18. Carlys

“I don’t understand why we have to leave.”

 

Carlys didn’t exactly understand why Helenys wanted to stay. Perhaps Helenys really was just her father’s daughter, couldn’t show joy. She didn’t seem to be enjoying Kings Landing, she rarely ever did, but every time they were getting ready to leave she had to question her. She gave the one answer that she knew would appease her daughter; “Your father commanded it.”

 

Helenys sulked off to go to the carriage where she and her brother would be riding in. Carlys still wasn’t sure if she even wanted to leave the capital, an odd feeling for her. There was so much left unsettled between Renly, and Oberyn Martell. Perhaps her brother was braver than her, willing to risk his own life more than she was ready to risk his.

 

“Are you ready, Lady Baratheon?” She was snapped out of her thoughts by the voice of her Bannerman, Beric Dondarrion. He was quick to correct his mistake. “Lady Thorne.”

 

She tightened the strap on her horse’s saddle, insisting on preparing it herself. For once, she was dressed comfortably, in leather pants instead of skirts. She smiled at Beric. “Yes. It was kind of you to offer to ride back with us,” she said, and he chuckled.

 

“I hadn’t performed as well in the melee as I would have hoped,” he said with a small shrug, grinning. “It’s best I leave, avoid suffering the humiliation.” He joked.

 

She laughed. “As I recall, you performed well. But I do appreciate the company on the road,” she said. She knew that Alliser thought Beric was one of his bannermen, and in a formal sense he was. He had bent the knee to house Thorne, said his oath, made his vows. She had known Beric since she was only a girl, his father served her own. If there was any house she trusted, it was the one with purple lightning.

 

He went to go prepare his horse, and she stood by hers. It was a calm day, many people watching the tourney that paid no mind to the leaving lady. Carlys didn’t mind, the quiet was nice, and for once it was peaceful. She hadn’t seen Rhaegar, or Lyanna, or Renly for that matter. She had wanted to say goodbye to her brother but was somewhat relieved she didn’t. She wasn’t sure what he would say that would implement himself as a traitor, she didn’t want to give him another chance to get himself killed.

 

“I hear that condolences are in order, Lady Thorne.” Carlys’ heart nearly jumped into her throat when she heard the voice behind her. Keeping her composure, she turned and looked at him.

 

Oberyn Martell. Usually, he was quite a casual man, she had grown to appreciate that. But, the look on his face put her on edge right away.

 

“Lord Oberyn,” she greeted, and then paused, taking a quick look around. “Condolences?”

 

“Yes.” He took a second, and the wait was agonizing. “You haven’t heard?”

 

“Haven’t heard what?” She pushed.

 

He took in a breath. “Your brother, Renly. He is dead.”

 

The moment the words left his lips it felt as though she had been stabbed. Everything around her froze, and she was no longer looking at Tywin. She was staring at Stannis, the moment he had received the raven that told them that Robert had been killed in battle. She was in Storms End, watching Stannis getting cut down when he could barely lift his sword himself. But it was different, far different.

 

Renly wasn’t Robert or Stannis. Renly had always been different to her, not just because they had spent so much of their lives apart. Her older brothers were warriors, they were men that would ride into battle and risk their lives for what they believed was right. They fought, they would never surrender. And ultimately, they lost. She had spent years mourning the deaths of her brothers regardless, trying to remind herself that they had fought, that they could have surrendered that they didn’t have to fight in such a war.

 

Renly wasn’t like that.

 

Perhaps she was blinded by her love and devotion to her little brother. He had been a warrior, in his own right. He wanted to fight the fight that Robert had started before him, he wanted to be a true Baratheon. Carlys hated herself for being unable to stop him, she thought back to what he had said, to what he urged her to do. They were treasonous, both of them. Both were plotting against the crown, both were breaking the terms of their surrender, they knew that.

 

But all Carlys could feel was the pure fury. They had killed her brother. Her only brother left.

 

She didn’t say anything for a long time, but she didn’t show any emotions either. She was a stag, and stags didn’t break in front of anyone.

 

“Had you not been informed?” Oberyn asked her and she swallowed, shaking her head. Her hands were clenched in tight fists and she felt her nails digging into her palms. “Then I am sorry to be the one to tell you, my lady. I only heard from Tywin Lannister myself, I thought you would have been told.”

 

“Was it the Targaryen’s?” Her eyes snapped up to meet his. She wanted to scream, but she kept her voice steady. “Did they kill him?”

 

“I’m not sure-,” he started but she cut him off.

 

“Of course it was.” She gritted her teeth to keep any emotions from bubbling to the surface. All she could feel was pure rage, pure anger. “They killed him, just as they killed Robert, just as they killed Stannis. They _murdered_ him! He was just a boy!” She could only think of him as the child she took care of during the Siege of Storms End, not of the man who he had become.

 

“Lady Carlys-,” Oberyn tried to talk again, only to be cut off.

 

“Wait here, and I will speak with you.” She turned heel and walked to the front of the caravan, where Beric Dondarrion would be. He looked at her and his expression quickly changed to worry.

 

“Is everything alright, m’lady?” He asked and she kept her eyes locked on his.

 

“Renly is dead,” she said, the words still feeling like fiction to her. Before he could speak, she continued. “Answer me this, Lord Dondarrion, if I were to call my banners, how many would come to my side?”

 

He seemed taken aback by the question. “All of them, m’lady. Of course all of them.”

 

“No, if _I_ were to call my banners. Not my husband.” She took in a deep breath, swallowing back the sorrow that threatened to rise within her, turning it into fury. “If a Baratheon were to call the banners of the Storms, how many would rise to the call?”

 

He paused. “Many, m’lady.”

 

“And for Thorne?”

 

“Fewer.”

 

She nodded, looking at the carriage that held her children. “I am charging you to care for my children. You must never leave their side. You will ride to Storms End, and ensure their safety. No matter what. Is that clear, Lord Dondarrion?”

 

He nodded obediently. “And yourself?”

 

“I have business in Kings Landing,” she said. “They killed our Lord, they killed my brother. It is time to make right what Robert started.”

 

Before he could offer any protest, she left, going back to the Viper. He glanced at her when she returned, but her eyes were turned to the Red Keep.

 

“You said that you wanted the Storms to help your rebellion?” She asked.

 

He turned to her, a small grin starting to form on his lips, but he kept the happiness contained. She wasn’t paying attention, she wouldn’t have been able to see. “Yes.”

 

“Then you have them.” Her gaze shifted to look at him. “All I need from you is a sword.”


	19. Oberyn

Oberyn just watched Carlys sharpen the sword for what felt like hours.

 

He was expecting her anger to be more explosive, for her to charge into the Red Keep to try and kill the King and Queen by herself. It would have fit with what he had heard about the Baratheon’s, they were supposedly not the type to think everything through. He got her back into the castle, unseen by most, and brought her to his room, hoping that the Targaryen’s and her husband would believe her to be with the Storms End caravan. He sent one of his guards to go find Tywin Lannister, so they could start to make a plan, and then only watched as she sat there. She demanded a sword, so he got her one. It wasn’t anything special, one that any common knight would use, but with the amount she had sharpened it, Oberyn wouldn’t be shocked if it had the edge of Valyrian Steel.

 

He gave her the space she needed for her own silence. In truth, Oberyn did feel bad for her to lose her last brother in such a way. The way she spoke of him, how she would refuse to rebel to keep him safe, he knew how she felt. He thought of his own sister, Elia. She hadn’t been killed, but she had lost a part of herself in the war, and that was hard enough for Oberyn to witness. He wouldn’t know how to react if he lost her, let alone all his siblings.

 

The door opened and Tywin was let inside by one of the guards. He strode into the room, his eyes drawn to Carlys right away, but he ignored her in favor of Oberyn. “What is the meaning of summoning me?” He asked harshly.

 

“We needed to speak,” Oberyn said simply, looking at Carlys again. “And I wouldn’t leave her alone. She has a taste for Targaryen blood.”

 

Tywin nodded. “She heard about her brother, I presume?”

 

“They killed him,” Carlys said, not taking her eyes from the blade. “After they said that I could trust them, that they wouldn’t hurt him, they killed him. Never trust a Targaryen. “

 

“She is willing to call her banners,” Oberyn explained, figuring that Carlys would not. “That would give us enough numbers to secure the Tully’s to call their banners. Four Kingdoms, united.”

 

“We should lay siege to the Red Keep,” Carlys said, “So that they can’t get their food in. We can starve them out for months, years. Until they eat each other like animals. Cut them down when they’re weak.”

 

Oberyn seemed amused, Tywin did not. “We cannot simply lay a siege on the Red Keep. If we are going to start a war, we are going to plan it more carefully, not run into it with no plan so you can play out some revenge fantasy.”

 

“They killed my brother.” She finally looked up at Tywin. “They killed your son.”

 

“Perhaps it is time for us to depart for home,” Oberyn suggested. “We regroup, prepare our armies for the impending battles, and then we can plan for how we will take Kings Landing.”

 

“Agreed,” Tywin said. His gaze had been fixed on Carlys, although he didn’t seem distracted. “Are you sure that she won’t do anything impulsive? We cannot risk her doing something that could get us all killed.”

 

“I won’t do anything,” she responded before Oberyn could answer. “I want to kill Rhaegar, but with his Kingsguard, I would have a better chance at seeing a dragon. I will act as though I mourn my brother in a calm way, play the part of Lady Thorne. I have gotten quite good at it. And then, when you tell me to call my banners, I will. And we will kill the dragon king.” She scraped the stone against the metal one last time.

 

Tywin nodded in approval. “Good.”

 

“That is all, Lord Lannister,” Oberyn said with a smile. “The next time we meet, it shall be at the start of our war.”

 

Tywin didn’t respond and didn’t smile back. He never smiled, Oberyn figured. He left the room, talking to his own Lannister guard, and Oberyn turned his attention back to Carlys. She was tapping her foot, no longer sharpening her blade but staring at it. He walked to a small table and poured her a glass of Dornish red, bringing it to her.

 

“I truly am sorry about Renly,” he said to her, making her look at him. He could see the sorrow in her eyes, although it was clear that she would never let it come to the surface. “We only spoke briefly. He was a good man though.”

 

“He was an idiot,” she muttered, taking a sip of the wine. “I told him not to get involved, I knew he would be killed. And yet he did it. And here we are.”

 

“Sometimes, you must take risks to accomplish what you desire,” Oberyn said with a pause. “And sometimes, you lose. He wanted to be free. He knew the risks.”

 

“I suppose he did.” She downed the rest of the wine, not bothering to savor the taste. “Everything in my life since that damned rebellion has been about keeping Renly alive. I bent the knee so that they would let him live, I married Alliser so they wouldn’t kill him. I called my brothers traitors for years, denounced my name and denounced my family so that he could stay alive, and now he is dead.”

 

“It seems you have been a prisoner in your own way,” Oberyn said, watching her. She didn’t look at him. “You should return to Dorne with me.”

 

“I don’t think my lord husband would like it if I ran off with a Dornish Prince,” she said and he laughed. “I have children in Storms End.”

 

“You will have freedom in Dorne, and it will be easier to plan an attack,” Oberyn told her. “Your children are with your bannerman, and your husband does not matter anymore. You said you were only with him to keep Renly alive. Now… you have no such motivation.”

 

“A Baratheon must be in Storms End. I need to rally my men, convince them to enter another rebellion.” She handed him back the glass and ran her hand through her hair. “Who are we rallying behind?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“If we are successful, if we kill Rhaegar, who will be King?”

 

Oberyn hadn’t voiced his opinions on the future king to anyone. In truth, he wanted to restore the rightful heir, his own nephew, Aegon Targaryen. Aegon should have been the next in line, he was Rhaegar’s first son. Half the reason that Oberyn wanted to rebel in the first place was because of the dishonor that Rhaegar had done to his family, first by annulling his marriage to Elia, and then by naming Jaehaerys his heir. The others were not so friendly towards any Targaryen’s, the young prince and princess would probably be included in that.

 

So, he only smiled, trying to deflect the conversation. “Perhaps I will be the one to sit on the throne. The first Dornish King of Westeros.”

 

“You would be better than Rhaegar,” she commented. “And Tywin.”

 

He laughed. “Are you going to return to Storms End, Lady Baratheon?”

 

A smile twitched on her lips for only a second at the sound of her true name. “I should. Get around friends before Alliser puts me under closer control. He knows I was only loyal because of…” she couldn’t say his name, so Oberyn nodded.

 

“I will send some of my guards with you on the road,” he offered, “At least until you catch up with your caravan.”

 

“Why are you being so helpful to me?”

 

“We are friends now,” he said, but when she looked skeptical he added, “I have interest in you staying alive. Many people do. You can trust me, Carlys.”

 

“Last time someone said that I could trust them, I ended up with a dead brother.” Her voice was hollow when she said it, but she looked at the Dornish prince with a small smile. “But I thank you, Prince Oberyn.”

 

“I look forward to fighting with you.” He smiled back at her.

 

She turned her back and her smile faded as she left the room. Oberyn gestured for two of his guards to follow her, and they did without hesitation. He looked around the empty room before walking back to the corner, pouring himself a glass of wine and drinking it.

 

He drank to Elia.


	20. Alliser

There was a loud knock on the door. “Lord and Lady Thorne?”

 

Alliser was alone when he heard Tyrion Lannister’s voice, one he wasn’t expecting to hear. With a frown, he stood and strode across the small room, opening the door. The newest hand of the king stood before him with a member of the Kingsguard with him.

 

“Lannister.” Thorne greeted. “What do you need of me?”

 

“Where is your wife, Lord Thorne?” Tyrion asked.

 

“On her way to Storms End. She left this morning,” he told him. When he saw the clear look of frustration with him, he asked, “Why do you need her?”

 

“Her brother, Lord Renly, is dead,” Tyrion said bluntly, and Alliser paused.  

 

The first emotion that he felt was, oddly enough, relief. The point of Renly becoming a ward of the Targaryen’s was supposed to dissuade Carlys away from rebelling, and in many ways it did work. She didn’t want to risk her last brother’s life on a rebellion that may not have worked. In other ways, Alliser saw the influence that Renly had on her. They never had a good marriage, but Alliser could almost trick himself into believing that she was like any ordinary lady when they were in Storms End. He never worried about her rebelling, she could talk to the Bannermen casually and although she had a clear distaste for the name Thorne, she still identified with it. She never embraced her name, but at least with her children, with their family, she had somewhat accepted it. It was only when they were in Kings Landing, when she would see her brother, that she would be reminded what she was. She was a Baratheon, she was a stag.

 

But then, he did feel worried. She had no reason to hold back, she had no reason to not rebel against the crown. He knew his wife, he knew how she truly felt about the rebellion.

 

It was enough to make him worry.

 

“So, she isn’t here?” Tyrion asked to clarify, and Alliser shook his head.

 

“No, she isn’t. It’s best for you that she isn’t,” he said bluntly. He had only seen Carlys sad twice in their marriage when they had lost their two sons. She never felt sadness over Robert or Stannis, she never cried over the rebellion. She got angry, not sad.

 

Tyrion clearly didn’t see it that way. He walked into the room and Alliser shut the door. “Yes, because it is better she be at home where she can talk to her Bannermen and raise an army.”

 

“If she had been here, she would have tried to gut you, imp.” Alliser growled lowly. He may have enjoyed seeing that himself. “Even if any of my banners are disloyal, they aren’t complete fools. They won’t rise in rebellion again, it would spell certain death.”

 

“You don’t think there’s even a possibility that your banners could turn against you?” Tyrion was getting impatient. “You trust them completely?”

 

Alliser shook his head. “I didn’t say that. What I’m saying is that they won’t march on the words of a girl for a lord they haven’t seen since he was a boy. They may not love me in the Storms, but they love their necks and their castles.”

 

Tyrion sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

 

“What did Renly do to make you kill him?” He asked, and Tyrion glanced at him.

 

“We didn’t kill him. And we don’t know who did.”

 

“He had guards on him at all times, did he not?”

 

“To guard him against hurting anyone, from running away, not from being killed himself.”

 

“Sounds like they were shit guards.”

 

Tyrion couldn’t deny it.

 

“I will ride and meet her on the road.” Alliser crossed the room, collecting the things he would need to bring back. “I will tell her the news and bring her back to Storms End, keeping a close eye on her. A better eye than you kept on her brother.”

 

Tyrion paused. “You are going back to Storms End? You do realize there is nothing to keep them from killing you there if they have rebelled, right?”

 

“Is it really so out of the question that I trust my wife not to kill me?”

 

“In this instance, I would say yes, Lord Thorne. And if you don’t see why, then you are an idiot.”

 

Alliser turned his intense glare to Tyrion, and it was almost enough to throw the Lannister off. “I have been living in hostile lands for years. If she truly wanted me dead, I would be dead, Renly or no. I’ve faced Baratheon fury, I know what it looks like, and I am not afraid of a broken girl.” He had never been afraid of her, even when other lords were.

 

Tyrion didn’t respond to that. Alliser gathered up what he needed and left the room without another word.

 

He had to find his wife and break her once again.


	21. Carlys

Carlys had caught up with the caravan after riding through the night.

 

As soon as she had caught up she sent the Dornishmen back to the capital. She felt safe with Beric and their guards and knew it wouldn’t be the best to have guards of Oberyn Martell around, it wouldn’t look good to certain people. She found Beric to fill him in on some information. She couldn’t even say Renly’s name anymore, only called him “her brother” when she spoke of him. Her anger had subsided slightly, and she found it hard to feel anything.

 

“I wasn’t supposed to hear about Renly’s death,” Carlys said, “I trust you didn’t tell my children?”

 

“No, of course not,” Beric assured her and she nodded.

 

“Good. They don’t need to know.” Cedrick was too young to understand, Helenys barely knew her uncle. “I’m going to pretend that I don’t know he’s dead. Wait until Alliser tells me himself. Or whoever they send. Perhaps they’ll send a raven.” She wouldn’t have been surprised.

 

“You want me to keep it a secret as well?”

 

“Yes, Lord Dondarrion.”

 

“Then it is done, m’lady.”

 

She smiled softly, and he smiled back.

 

The next day they rode for the entire day, although the caravan was slow moving. It wasn’t very large, but the path wasn’t great for navigating. Carlys didn’t mind, it gave her time to clear her head up in front. She’d close her eyes and inhale the fresh air that smelled like grass and mud. It was rather peaceful out there, not a sound but the wind whistling past and the occasional conversation happening behind her.

 

They stopped for the night at a small inn. There weren’t that many people in the caravan, and Carlys was sure to pay the keeper handsomely for letting them stay. She remembered staying there as a child with her family when they would travel to Kings Landing.

 

After settling the children in a room, Carlys grabbed her sword and walked out back. She sat up on a stone wall that surrounded the inn and tilted her head up to stare at the sky. Millions of stars shone down on her, painting the dark canvas with beautiful light. When she was young, she would stare up at the stars and wonder if the Gods truly were up there. She stopped wondering that though, stopped believing they were real after the rebellion. She had prayed every day for Robert’s safe return, and he never did. She prayed every day for food, for the siege to end, and eventually it did, although her brother was killed for it. Even after all that, after denouncing the seven, she still found herself praying for her brother Renly, for him to return home.

 

She didn’t pray.

 

She sat alone for a while until Beric walked outside. He cleared his throat and she glanced over her shoulder at him.

 

“Yes, Beric?”

 

“Your husband is here, M’lady.”

 

She paused. “Alliser? What’s he doing here?”

 

“He said he had news to tell you. He rode through last night to catch up,” he said and she nodded, understanding.

 

“You can send him back here,” she said and he nodded and left. She closed her eyes, expecting more time to deal with the death of Renly by herself. She hadn’t figured out what she was going to say, how she was going to act. She took deep breaths and closed her eyes. The sword was still close by, something she knew Alliser would hate, but she didn’t bother moving it.

 

Alliser came outside and she looked at him. “Hello, my love,” she greeted him, trying to sound as though she was alright. She turned to look at him as he stood by the wall. “I thought you were staying in Kings Landing a little while longer.”

 

“I was going to. But something happened that I had to tell you,” he said. He didn’t look too concerned, he never looked concerned about her. But then again, he had ridden through the night just to tell her. She might have expected him to be taunting about it, but he seemed more blank than anything.

 

“What is it?” She tried to sound confused, but her voice just sounded empty.

 

“Renly died.”

 

The sound of crickets filled the air around them. Carlys would never get used to hearing that Renly was dead, just as she never got used to hearing that Robert and Stannis were dead, and they had been gone a long time. She closed her eyes, expecting to feel angry again. She took in a staggered breath and opened them again. Her vision was blurry as she looked away from Alliser, up at the stars.

 

“The Targaryens killed him?” She asked. It was the information that Oberyn didn’t know, or he didn’t tell her. It was only her assumption. She knew it was them, she just wanted to see what Alliser said.

 

“They didn’t.”

 

“Or so they say.”

 

“Or so they say,” he agreed.

 

She closed her eyes to hold back tears. She had known he had died, and when Oberyn told her, all she could feel was white-hot anger glowing inside of her. It felt different though. Renly was dead. She had to keep repeating it in her head to accept it. She remembered when she was younger that Robert told her not to cry, it wasn’t the Baratheon way. Stannis said the same, but later told her never to let anyone see your emotions. Carlys did well not to cry, and if she did she didn’t show anyone. The last person that she wanted to show was Alliser. He was her husband, he was the man who had married her to keep her in line. Their marriage was not built from love, they shared no love between them.

 

She remembered the sword close by. It would have been so easy for her to pick up the blade, to let her grief of Renly turn into Baratheon fury and stab him through before he knew what was happening. He was a warrior, he had his own blade, it would have been foolish, but it would have been better than breaking in front of him.

 

But she didn’t pick up the blade. She let out a choked sob and covered her face with her hands. All she could think about was Renly. He was the last thing she had from her past, the only thing connecting her to being a Baratheon. She had lost her brothers, she had given up her name. Renly was it for her. He was her little brother, she was supposed to protect him. She bent the knee just to save his life, gave up on everything she believed in for him.

 

And he was gone.

 

After a moment of surprise at her reaction, Carlys felt Alliser’s hand on her shoulder, and then it moved down to her back. He rubbed her back soothingly but she didn’t look at him, she didn’t even acknowledge he was there.

 

She merely sat there and cried, and he didn’t say another word about it.


	22. Robb

Robb had sensed a shift in the energy in the Red Keep before he even found out that Renly Baratheon had died.

 

He didn’t know Renly, he had never met him. He saw him around with King Rhaegar and Jaehaerys before, acting as a squire, but Robb never talked to him. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to, Robb wanted to meet a Baratheon badly. He had heard that his father, Eddard, served alongside Robert Baratheon, and Robb often wondered if he was named after the would-be-usurper. But he never talked to Renly because he was too cautious. His mother had told him that Renly was the Targaryen ward, the guards at his side were there to keep him in line, to be sure he wouldn’t rebel like his brother did. The young wolf had no intention of rebelling, but he still kept his distance anyway. It was better for both of them.

 

“He was nice,” Jaehaerys said when Robb brought up the topic to him. He was staring down at his sword as he sharpened it. “Our family didn’t kill him. We had no reason to. He must have been doing something to someone else.”

 

“I doubt Lady Baratheon is happy about it,” Robb said and Jaehaerys glanced at him. “Think that’s why they left?”

 

“I don’t know,” the prince admitted. “My father is worried though. He thinks there will be another rebellion.”

 

Robb stopped talking after that.

 

He tried to watch how all the families interacted, only to be disappointed by what he saw. There were no whispers, no secret conversations. Everyone either seemed on edge, looking at every person sideways or completely avoiding each other. Still, he knew that something was going to happen, he knew by how his mother was so on edge. He knew because uncle Benjen started carrying his sword on him wherever he went, how everyone started to carry their swords. Little wine poured at the feasts anymore, and one by one families began to leave the Red Keep, going back to rule their kingdoms. And every time another one left, Rhaegar and Lyanna would exchange glances, and go off in private to talk to each other.

 

That was when he made up his mind.

 

He found his uncle Benjen as they were packing up to head back to Winterfell. “I want to take lordship of Winterfell,” he declared, and Benjen stopped what he was doing.

 

“You do?” He asked, and Robb nodded confidently. “It is yours by right, always has been. If you want it, then you can have it.”

 

“Thank you, uncle,” he said and Benjen smiled lightly.

 

“Don’t thank me yet. These are difficult times we are entering. What happens in the coming years could change the history of Westeros,” he said somberly. “There will be a lot of plotting, scheming. Things us Northerners aren’t used to.”

 

Robb sighed, nodding. “I know.” He looked at Benjen, who had been serving as warden of the north since his brother’s death. He never complained, but Robb could always tell that he didn’t want to be the Lord of Winterfell. “What would you do?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“If you were still going to be Lord of Winterfell, what would you do in the coming years?” He asked, and Benjen fell silent. “Please Uncle Benjen, I need to know what should be done.”

 

“You bent the knee to the crown, just as I did,” Benjen reminded him. “Rhaegar and your Aunt Lyanna let us live, let us keep our positions even though our family did rise in rebellion. They showed mercy to us. And you do have family on the throne.”

 

“They are also the reason my father died,” he said bluntly, and Benjen sighed. “I know you love Aunt Lyanna but it is true, is it not?”

 

Benjen didn’t answer.

 

“I know we have loyalties, and my word is my honor,” Robb said with a pause. “But my father had his own reasons for rising in rebellion. You said it yourself, it was because of Aunt Lyanna. He wanted her home, he wanted to bring her back. He died fighting for her when she didn’t even need to be fought for.”

 

“You would do best to keep your voice down,” Benjen told him and then turned to him fully. “Robb, if you are going to be Lord of Winterfell, then I cannot stop you from doing as you wish in the coming years. This will be your decision to make, but you must think of what will be best for your people. Winter is coming, and war may come with it.”

 

“Winter is coming,” Robb echoed as his uncle walked away. He stood by himself for a moment before his mother, Catelyn walked over.

 

“Robb, are you alright?” She asked and touched his arm. He looked at her and smiled softly.

 

“Yes mother… Can I ask you something?” He asked and she nodded her head. “If there is another rebellion in Westeros, which side will the Tully’s fight on?”

 

She pursed her lips in thought before saying, “You would have to ask your Uncle Edmure,” she said, although he knew she knew differently. He didn’t push the topic. “Why would you ask, Robb?”

 

“I am to be Lord of Winterfell,” Robb said, “The Tully’s and Stark’s are allies.”

 

“You are taking lordship _now_?” She asked and he sighed. “Robb, now is a very dangerous time to take power. Perhaps you should wait.”

 

“I am a man, mother. Winterfell is mine by right, and I must decide what will be done in the upcoming conflicts.” Everyone felt the tension, everyone knew the kingdom would fracture. “Now is the best time for me to take power. For me to decide what is best for my people.”

 

“And what is best for your people?”

 

It was Robb’s turn to fall silent.

 

“Robb, look at me.” Catelyn placed her hand on her son’s cheek to urge him to turn to her. “Robb, I beg you, think this through _carefully_. Your father rushed into a war, he insisted on fighting and leading half of the rebellion himself. He paid the price for it. Think of your people but think of yourself as well. Think through all options carefully before making a decision.”

 

Robb nodded. He thought of the family he had in Kings Landing, of his Aunt Lyanna who protected him as a child, of King Rhaegar who was, he had to admit, a kind and just king. They did show mercy to him, to his family, even when they did rise in rebellion, although it may have only been because Lyanna was a Stark herself. But they showed mercy to the Baratheon’s as well, to many other families throughout the seven kingdoms. He thought of Jaehaerys, his cousin who he wished had been his brother, the next in line to be king. He would be a good king, a fair king.

 

But then he thought of the father he never got to meet.

 

“Let us ride to Winterfell,” Robb said. “We will make our choice when there is one to make.”

 

Catelyn nodded and Robb went to prepare his horse.

 

He had no idea what choice he was going to make. All he knew is that he would be the lord to make it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more or less the end of what I'd call "part one" I guess, because getting a bit of a time jump coming up. But just wanted to leave a quick thank you to everyone who is leaving comments, I'm glad you are enjoying the fic, and hope you keep reading!


	23. Carlys

It was almost half a year after Renly’s death that Carlys finally received the signal to call her banners.

 

She had kept her communications with Oberyn and Tywin minimal, and very secretive. Messages were never sent to Storms End, but to Blackhaven, where the Dondarrion’s lived. Beric Dondarrion had become her most trusted bannerman, and he was always by Carlys’ side when she wasn’t with Alliser. He would get the letters, although they had very little information, and tell her what he knew. At first, there was nothing to know. The Kingdom was at a standstill as if people were too afraid to make any moves, to speak to the other lords and ladies. Eventually, everything started to run again, the politics began, alliances were built.

 

And then they got the message. Dorne and the Westerlands were ready to make their move, to declare a war on Kings Landing. Carlys only had to call her banners and wait for the Dornish to come to the Stormlands.

 

“Why are they coming here?” Beric asked her quietly when they finally had a moment alone. She watched over Cedrick as he ran through the courtyard, and then shrugged at his question.

 

“It is close to Kings Landing, and it saves them and us from having to go through the Reach or the Crown Lands,” she says, thinking of Westeros. “It will be safer to march to the Westerlands with them. Then we will join the Lannisters and Tullys.”

 

She had her plan to call the banners, and Beric was helping her. She had sent out her ravens, and they were all going to march to Storms End to hear her plea. There was only one thing that had to get taken care of.

 

Alliser.

 

She hadn’t decided what she wanted to do with him, it was the one decision she put off. She decided early on to rebel, to trust Oberyn and Tywin, and that seemed easy in comparison. The options were, as she saw it, that she could kill him, or take him prisoner. The easier option would have been to kill him. It would be clean, and then he would be gone from her life forever. Keeping someone as a prisoner was messy, as she had learned from Rhaegar’s mistakes. He kept Renly prisoner, although not locked down enough, and in a sense, he made her a prisoner under Alliser. Leaving someone alive was dangerous because if they did find a way to escape, they would want revenge on who locked them up.

 

But every time she thought of killing Alliser, she would think of Helenys. He was her father, and Carlys saw how he was with her. Alliser was cold to everyone, Carlys thought, he was unsmiling and unkind. But with his daughter it was different, he was different. Even if it was just in small ways, like how he would smile at her, how he would kiss her hair before Helenys would run off to bed. He loved his daughter, and she loved him. Carlys could only think of the pain she felt when she lost her family and didn’t want to inflict the same pain on her own child.

 

But would Helenys really be any happier with her father as their prisoner?

 

She had found Alliser walking through the courtyard. He had kept a close eye on her for the months since Renly had died, but not close enough. She almost felt bad for him, Rhaegar had given him a position where he was in a hostile land filled with hostile people. Carlys had changed from the dresses she usually wore, wearing leather armor, a sword at her side. There were others with her, Beric by her side, and she had five other Baratheon guards. She stopped in front of her husband, and he looked at her.

 

It was as if he knew as soon as he saw her, but he didn’t give her an easy time of it. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice low. She stood her ground.

 

“The banners are coming today,” she said, “My banners are coming today.”

 

“You called your banners.” He folded his arms across his chest, looking at her. He looked no less afraid than she did. “Carlys, if you rise in rebellion, you are going to die.”

 

Beric drew his sword, and the other guards followed suit. “Is that a threat to my lady?” Beric asked, and Alliser shot his glare at him.

 

“It isn’t a threat, it’s a statement of fact, Dondarrion,” he growled. He looked back at Carlys. “Your brothers rose in rebellion, and your brothers died. Eddard Stark rose in rebellion, and he died as well. All those who rose in rebellion against Rhaegar Targaryen died, and you want to join them?”

 

“Their rebellion was small,” she said and stepped closer to him. “My rebellion will be much larger, and I don’t intend to die.”

 

Alliser laughed bitterly. “I always knew you to be a traitor, although I thought you were smarter. You are going to get yourself killed. You’re going to get our children killed,” he stated, and then looked around at the guards. “So, you’re going to kill me, is that it?”

 

“No.” Still, none of the guards lowered their swords once she said this. “Not now.”

 

By the time the banners had arrived in the great hall, it was nightfall. Carlys could hear just behind the large wooden doors the discussion, each of the Storm Lords talking over each other. Alliser stood beside her, his arms bound behind his back in chains. Carlys was thankful enough that he was so quiet they didn’t have to gag him, it wasn’t as if he could make an argument anyway.

 

“Are you ready, m’lady?” Beric asked and she nodded.

 

“Don’t do this,” Alliser muttered. She ignored him.

 

As soon as the door was pushed open, silence fell over the room. Carlys grabbed Alliser’s arm and dragged him inside with her, Beric trailing close behind. She walked to the front of the room and pulled Alliser’s arm, forcing him down to his knees in front of her. He gave her an icy glare but she ignored it, focusing only on the Storm Lords that watched her. With every step she took there was an echo. She took a deep breath, her hands behind her back.

 

“My lords.” Her booming voice filled the entire room, like Robert’s would have when he was the Lord of Storms End. “I am Carlys Baratheon, the last living Baratheon in Storms End. My family had held this family for centuries, we had ruled the Storms for centuries. Many of your families have served under mine for that time, have marched for war for my family. For that, I offer my thanks.”

 

She stepped forward from Alliser, looking at each of the lords. They looked skeptical, but many were nodding.

 

“My brother, Robert Baratheon, was lord of the storms, and he declared a rebellion against the crown. Many of you had family who marched alongside him, who died alongside him. My brother Stannis became your lord after his death, and he was cut down as well. When my youngest brother, Renly, was to be your lord, they took him, and they said they were showing mercy. They married me to a man who was not of the Storms.” She glanced back at Alliser for only a moment, and then looked back at her lords. “And they gave you a choice. Bend the knee to him, swear fealty to him, or lose your lands, or worse, your heads. Tell me, my lords, if you think that an oath sworn with a sword at your throat is a true oath of loyalty?”

 

There were some shouts that showed they agreed with her, some of the lords getting more riled up. She glanced back at Beric who nodded at her in encouragement.

 

“They made you kneel to a lord and then killed your true one,” she shouted so her voice filled the room. “They killed your lord, Renly Baratheon. They imprisoned him for years, made him their servant, and killed him for trying to return here, to you. Do the Storms take such disrespect?”

 

This time, she got a louder reaction, and she felt more confident.

 

“Men from across Westeros curse the dragon king, and there is a new rebellion mounting. I ask you, my lords, will you rise with me? Will you stand with me against the king who has disrespected us, who has killed your lords and killed my brothers, and will you join me in rebellion?”

 

Beric was the first to come forward. He walked so he was before her and pulled out his sword, kneeling in front of her. “My sword is yours, m’lady. I will ride with you.”

 

Many followed soon after. Selmy, Swann, Tarth, all kneeling. Carlys smiled to herself as she swore her own oaths to her new lords.

 

She glanced back over her shoulder at Alliser, who just stared at her. It was clear what he was thinking without him saying a word; he thought she was going to die.

 

Normally, she would have feared death. But with the promise of an army at her back, she felt invincible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might rename this fic all together, because when I first started it was actually going to be a shorter fic with much more of a focus on Alliser and Carlys, but clearly... well, it went a bit off the rails. Just posting this in case I do, so be ready for that if it happens.


	24. Oberyn

He arrived at the gates of Storms End in the late afternoon. Oberyn smiled as he saw the sigil of the stag hanging from the castle walls, signifying that once again the Baratheon’s were in power.

 

Much of the strength of the Storms was already there, many of the soldiers outside the castles waiting for the Dornish to join them. Oberyn was told where his army could stay, and then he was led inside. He wasn’t alone this time like he was in Kings Landing. Ellaria Sand walked beside him, eyeing the castle as they walked through the halls. It was darker than they were used to in Dorne, much simpler as well. A grand castle though, built to withstand the greatest storms.

 

They were brought to the great hall where Carlys Baratheon stood. She was dressed like a warrior, what he would expect from one called the she-stag. Beric Dondarrion was by her side, and she smiled when she saw Oberyn, approaching him.

 

“Prince Oberyn,” she greeted with a polite nod, looking at Ellaria. “I didn’t know you were married.”

 

“This is my paramour, Ellaria Sand,” Oberyn introduced, and Ellaria gave her own small smile to Carlys.

 

“My Lady,” Ellaria bowed her head, and Carlys bowed hers back.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you I’m sure.”

 

Oberyn glanced around the room, noticing more Baratheon banners. “It seems you have gotten your home back.”

 

“My home, my banners, my name as well,” Carlys said, “It’s a good start. Although it won’t be enough until Queen Lyanna is…” she glanced at Ellaria, perhaps thinking her a delicate woman. “Well, that can be spoken of privately. You two must be tired, it is a long way from Dorne. Lord Beric, you may escort Lady Ellaria to the chambers we have set up. Lord Oberyn, if you wouldn’t mind a word?”

 

“Of course.” Oberyn kissed Ellaria on the cheek and she kissed him back on the lips. The kiss lingered for a moment before they broke apart, and Ellaria followed Beric down the hall. Carlys smirked and led Oberyn in an opposite direction, stopping only when they came to a war room.

 

The table inside was long, a map of Westeros laid out on top of it. There was great detail on the map, all the pieces already in place. Oberyn admired it for a moment as Carlys ran her hand along it.

 

“I remember how Stannis would always stay locked in this room for hours during the siege, every time he got a raven from Robert, or Eddard Stark, an update on the war.” She picked up one of the pieces, the head of a dragon, and stared at it. “He always had a million plans in his head for what was going to happen, for how he thought that Robert would proceed. For how he thought he _should_ proceed. But, we were under siege, so it was all useless anyway. It made me sad seeing the stags go down one by one. Our armies just kept dwindling, until…” She placed the dragon back on the map, in Kings Landing.

 

“That is what we are going to set right,” he said, walking over and picking up the dragon himself. “Rhaegar Targaryen is not a man who deserves a crown, who deserves a throne.”

 

“Who does deserve the throne, Prince Oberyn?” He glanced up at her when she asked the question, and she was watching him closely. “When all this is over, who do you see taking the throne? Yourself?”

 

Aegon’s face appeared in his mind, but he didn’t dare say that. They hated the dragons, they wouldn’t want to crown another one. He held back laughter at the thought of himself being king but broke out into a grin. “I haven’t envisioned myself on the throne. All I see is a spear through Rhaegar Targaryen’s belly. Perhaps you see yourself with a crown?”

 

She laughed softly. “I only want the Storms and Lyanna Stark’s head. I have no notions of becoming queen of Westeros.”

 

“You are a simple woman. There seems to be so few simple women in Westeros.” He chuckled and walked closer to her. She turned her gaze down to the map, looking away from Kings Landing and instead to the Westerlands. The Lions were set up proudly where they would be waiting.

 

“I’m sure Tywin would be pleased to have the throne,” she commented. “For him, perhaps his daughter Cersei. They probably already see it in their grasps.”

 

Oberyn didn’t look at the map, instead watching her closely. Perhaps she wasn’t as simple as he thought. “The Lannister’s are our allies,” he reminded her. She laughed again.

 

“The Lannister’s are still Lannister’s. They fought alongside the Targaryen’s in the rebellion. The only reason Tywin Lannister holds a grudge now is over his son. He does not have the same anger we have, the same reason to rebel. He still has his power; his son is the hand of the king.”

 

“You do not trust the lion?” Oberyn questioned, and she finally looked at him.

 

“I trust you more,” she told him, and he smirked at her boldness.

 

“We will keep eyes on the lion,” he said carefully, although he was sure that Carlys wasn’t about to go to Tywin and strike a deal with him. She didn’t seem sneaky enough to do such a thing. She nodded in agreement, and he looked at the map, tracing his finger from Storms End, up through The Reach, and to the Westerlands. “We will march in two days, yes?”

 

“Yes. We will have a formal meeting, come up with a proper plan,” she said, “I don’t see there will be much trouble getting through The Reach. They are declared for the Targaryen’s, but they are not ready for an army or battles. They would not expect one.”

 

“Good.” Oberyn’s eyes flicked north. “The wolf has gone silent. He hasn’t declared to us, perhaps he has declared to the Targaryen’s as well.”

 

“I thought Robb Stark would have sided with his mother and the Tully’s,” she mused.

 

“His aunt is the queen.”

 

“The Tully’s still march with us. I don’t imagine they would if Stark declared for the Targaryen’s. He may stay out of this war. Winter is coming.”

 

Oberyn nodded and looked back at Carlys. “So,” he started, “What did you do with your husband. Lord Thorne, was it?”

 

“He is locked in the dungeon,” she said, “He is a prisoner of the Baratheon’s until the end of the war.”

 

“What will happen once it ends?”

 

“He will be given a choice; take the black or lose his head,” she said. “He can bend the knee if he so chooses, but he would not choose that. He’s a stubborn fool. A true Targaryen loyalist.”

 

“Why don’t you kill him now?” He asked, more out of curiosity than anything. She shrugged.

 

“He is the father to my children. My daughter loves him.” Her voice sounded blank when she spoke, but he could tell there was more to her words than just that. She looked at him. “I will show you to your room, Prince Oberyn, you must be exhausted.”

 

He nodded graciously and followed her out of the room. He glanced back over his shoulder at the map, at the pieces already set up. He smiled to himself.

 

He was ready for a war.


	25. Catelyn

Catelyn felt strange being away from Robb and Winterfell.

 

She had spent a lot of time in Riverrun since the rebellion, especially in the early days. Eddard was dead, Benjen was the lord of Winterfell, and she wanted to be with her family. Her father was killed by Rhaegar Targaryen for his part in the rebellion and Edmure was named lord. She felt a need to stay nearby often, but this time it was different. She wasn’t in Riverrun, although she was with her family, this time she was ready for a battlefield. She wouldn’t fight, of course, but she had declared her place in the rebellion. Edmure didn’t hesitate to declare, and she supported him. Their father had died because of the dragon king.

 

But Robb hadn’t declared, and there was a chance their armies could end up in battle.

 

“What is keeping him from declaring?” Edmure asked her one day. They were in the Tully tent with The Blackfish as well, although he was quieter, watching Edmure with some disdain. Catelyn had been expecting the question about her son, and she was glad that at least it was from her brother and not from Tywin Lannister.

 

“A Stark is on the throne,” she said, thinking of Lyanna. It was hard for Catelyn to not blame Lyanna for what happened during the rebellion, for getting her original betrothed, Brandon, killed, and ultimately her husband, Eddard. “He shares blood with the royal family. He doesn’t want to fight on either side.”

 

“The northern army could make or break this war,” Edmure said flatly, and Catelyn sighed.

 

There was more to it then Robb not wanting to fight. It was true, he didn’t want to fight against his aunt, or more accurately his cousin. Robb and Jaehaerys were almost like brothers in a way. But Catelyn knew more than anyone else, what her son had told her. The crown’s allies, the Tyrell’s, were offering Robb their daughter Margaery for marriage. She was not only a beautiful girl, but marrying into the Tyrell’s came with great power. They were the second richest family in Westeros, and the crown trusted them fully. Robb could gain considerable power from the move. He had told his mother about it in confidence, and Catelyn would never betray that.

 

“It doesn’t look good to our new allies to have the Stark’s hold back,” Edmure told her finally. “They are supposed to be our allies. When they declared a rebellion, we raised our banners. And now that we have declared, they won’t raise theirs?”

 

“The last time they raised their banners, they lost three of their lords,” Catelyn reasoned, but she knew that Edmure had a point. It wouldn’t look good to the other lords they were aligned with for the Stark’s to join late if they joined at all. “This is Robb’s first war, he needs to think of his people, if this is worth fighting for.”

 

“Well, he better make up his mind quickly. The rest don’t seem patient.” Edmure looked at his sister, and his impatience was clear. He straightened his posture. “The Martells and the Baratheons should be here in a fortnight or so. Until then, we can feel out Tywin Lannister, learn his plans of who he wants to crown once the Targaryen’s fall.”

 

“He’s a Lannister, he will want to crown himself,” Brynden predicted, finally breaking his silence.

 

Edmure blinked. “I doubt the rest will just accept him as king. We are all taking part in the rebellion.”

 

“It will be hard to argue. He does have the largest army, he is the richest man in Westeros…” Brynden looked at his nephew with a small smirk that only Catelyn seemed to notice. “Do you fancy yourself a king?”

 

Catelyn silently wished her brother wouldn’t answer. He had never been the most perceptive of their uncle's jests. But Edmure puffed out his chest and looked defiant. “Why not me? I am a lord, like the rest. I have declared for the rebellion.”

 

Brynden laughed, but Catelyn didn’t react. She knew that her brother would never be king, she could still barely imagine him as Lord of the Riverlands, and he had been Lord for thirteen years. Still, she preferred the image of Edmure on the throne than Tywin Lannister.  Something about the Lion set her on edge, even when he was playing nice. They were aligned, and she still felt the need to watch her back. There was a reason he was the most feared man in Westeros, and it wasn’t only because of his money. He was an intimidating man, he probably had more power that they didn’t know about. It didn’t help that he had the Clegane brothers, nicknamed the Mountain and the Hound, at his back at all times. One wrong move and he could have someone killed.

 

They were aligned, but Catelyn never relied on that to keep her safe. It only took a moment for an alliance to crumble, for friends to become enemies.

 

“We need to stand our ground,” Edmure said. “Tywin cannot just take the throne. There are three other kingdoms that are in rebellion.”

 

“Who will all want to crown themselves as well,” Brynden reminded him. “Men are selfish. Once the Targaryen’s are gone, they will turn on each other like a pack of dogs, all fighting over the throne. Gods know why, a throne made of swords can’t be comfortable.”

 

Catelyn actually did laugh at that one, which made Brynden smile. But she knew her uncle was right, this wasn’t like Robert’s Rebellion. Their rebellion had a figurehead, Robert rallied the kingdoms, he was the one to call for a rebellion against the Targaryens. They united behind him, not only for the sake of Lyanna, but to avenge the deaths caused by the Targaryen’s.

 

This time, they were united only by hatred and anger. Oberyn Martell wanted revenge for his sister, Carlys Baratheon for her brothers, Edmure for their father. Catelyn was only sure of one thing, Tywin had to be motivated more than by his son Jaime. She just wasn’t sure what yet.

 

They would tear each other apart as soon as their enemy was gone. They’d have nothing else to bind them together.

 

Perhaps Robb was the smart one to stay out of it.


	26. Alliser

Alliser was never going to let his anger and frustration show.

 

He had been sitting in the dungeons of Storms End for weeks, and he hadn’t uttered a single word since then. The guards would bring him meager food, all who had bent the knee to the new Baratheon lady. They snickered at him as they walked past, and he didn’t even give them a glance. He stared straight ahead, thinking of how she was going to die. It was never at his own hands, he never imagined himself killing her because he knew he would never be free from her. Even if he was, he doubted he would be able to kill her. You don’t have two children with someone without forming some sort of bond, he thought. But she had arrested him. Still, he imagined her dying. Not because it felt good, or he wanted to. He didn’t care about her. He only thought about it because it was a fact in his mind. She was going to die because of her rebellion.

 

He could only hope that she didn’t bring her children down with her.

 

He leaned his head back against the stone wall of the prison he was kept in. It was dark, and damp, and smelled like mold and dust. They hadn’t kept men down there often, they were quickly transported up north to the wall the few times they did. He remembered once Carlys told him how Stannis kept prisoners there during the siege, his men who tried to break the siege line.

 

_“He wanted to throw them over the side of the walls,”_ she said as a matter of fact. _“But our Maester said that he would have to conserve them. We were running out of food, and it was a waste of meat to throw them away.”_

Alliser shivered.

 

He felt like a fool for what had happened. He had seen it for years, the possibility of her staging her own revolt. He had seen it from the first moment he met her. He knew why the other lords had rejected Rhaegar’s deal, even though it would have made them one of the great lords of Westeros, it would have made their families one of the great families. There was a reason why no one wanted Storms End, why no one wanted _her._

 

He had time to figure out why he wanted it. Months, perhaps years to rot in a cell, if he was lucky. It would be easier for him if he could say he loved her, or he thought she was beautiful. He didn’t, he never particularly loved her. He had never been hungry for power ever, all he wanted to do was serve his king. And that was what he did. Storms End was a great honor.

 

Perhaps that was why he took it.

 

He heard the large door at the end of the hall open and footsteps walking towards his cell. He didn’t lift his head or acknowledge it at all, not even when the footsteps stopped in front of his cell. It was only that he heard his wife’s voice did he turn his head. “Alliser.” Her voice wasn’t gentle.

 

He turned to look at her. “Carlys.” He sounded just as uncaring as she did. She knelt beside his cell, wearing her clothes from when she used to hunt, act like a lord instead of a lady. She had a sword by her side, and for a moment he wondered if she was there to kill him.

 

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said, “I don’t know when I’ll be back. You’ll be kept down here as my prisoner.”

 

“Lovely,” he said, closing his eyes. It was nothing that he wasn’t expecting. “Are you bringing Cedrick and Helenys with you?”

 

“Are you really asking if I would take our children to a battlefield?” She asked and he shrugged. “You think I’m that stupid?”

 

“It’s hard to tell with you.” He sighed. “Carlys, you are going to die if you join this rebellion.”

 

She paused for a moment, and when he looked at her, her eyes were still staring at him. “Why do you think that?” She asks, sounding genuinely curious.

 

“You are trusting yourself to Tywin Lannister and Oberyn Martell. I wouldn’t trust them with spit, let alone with my life. The second they have their use out of you, they will turn on you. That’s what they do, that’s what all traitors do.”

 

“Everyone is a traitor in some way, Alliser,” she said and he raised an eyebrow. “Your precious Rhaegar Targaryen betrayed his wife when he ran off with Lyanna Stark. Lyanna Stark betrayed my brother when she ran off and broke her betrothal. You…” she paused. “I suppose I haven’t seen you betray anyone.”

 

“Not everyone is a traitor,” he said again and she sighed, giving up the argument. “Why do you seem so intent on this rebellion, Carlys?”

 

“They killed my brothers,” she said and he shook his head.

 

“You’ve told me about your brothers and you didn’t have a single happy memory of them. Robert was always drunk, Stannis was always yelling at you, Renly was always whining like a child.” He could almost feel the anger radiate from her body, but he continued anyway. “You may have loved them as your brothers because you had to, but that bond of blood would not motivate someone to die for them. You know this rebellion is dangerous, you know that you could die. You are not doing this for your brothers.”

 

“It is for them,” she growled, glaring at him through the bars. But then her face softened. “They all died rebelling. Even Renly was probably killed because of what he was planning. I was supposed to die in the siege. Baratheon’s do not surrender, we do not bend the knee, that was what Robert told me before he left. That was what Stannis told me every day. By the end he was tiny, and still, he lifted his sword to fight. He would not surrender. But I saw them kill Stannis, my brother, and I had my sword… I laid it down anyway. Because I was afraid. I was a coward. So, if I die, then I die as a true Baratheon.”

 

He stopped. “You were a girl who had seen her brother die before her. You weren’t a coward.” He shook his head, almost laughing at the thought. “You are a damn fool, Carlys Baratheon. And you are going to die.”

 

“I’m fine with that.”

 

“As long as you don’t get our children killed, I’m fine with that too.” He could tell his words cut her, and he wasn’t sure why he said them, but he didn’t take it back.

 

She rose to her feet, looking down at him. “Goodbye my love,” she said, the hastened words leaving her lips before she could stop them. They were only habit, she knew that, and he did as well. From years of living a lie. She corrected herself. “Goodbye, Lord Thorne. Until we meet again.”

 

A bitter laugh escaped his lips as she left the dungeons. He closed his eyes. “Goodbye, Carlys.”


	27. Carlys

Carlys had never seen such a sea of people.

 

Banners from the Westerlands flew high above the rest, Lannister Red washing over almost all of them. Carlys had learned the house sigils and words when she was young, convinced Stannis to help teach her. The Lannister words were “Hear me roar”, and this army was the roar, she decided.

 

The Lannisters weren’t the only ones represented though. The fish of the Tully house leaped from the banner, proudly proclaiming the Riverlands side in the war. She had been marching with the Dornish banner long enough to know that one too, a spear piercing the sun. There were, of course, the banners of minor houses, far more than she knew. She looked up at her own banner, the stag. She smiled to herself.

 

Finally, the stag would be back into the battle.

 

They were led deeper into the camp as the Stormland and Dornish armies started to set up their own. They would not be staying long, they only needed a plan of attack. Carlys kept Beric with her as always, and Oberyn walked with one of his bannermen as well. Carlys wasn’t sure where Ellaria had gone to, or why the woman was even there. She didn’t seem to be a warrior, and they would be going to battle soon. At first, she thought that Oberyn wouldn’t be so foolish as to bring his love there to avoid loneliness, that she must have served a purpose. But, the longer they shared the road, the more she did figure that Ellaria was there for Oberyn only. She never questioned it, not to him anyway.

 

They were brought to a red Lannister tent and led inside. There were many men there that Carlys didn’t recognize, although two that she did. Tywin Lannister, and Edmure Tully. She had only met Edmure once in Kings Landing, but he had a memorable face, and the trout on his armor was hard to miss. Edmure and Tywin both turned to them when they entered.

 

“Prince Oberyn, Lady Carlys,” Tywin greeted politely. Edmure nodded along, repeating their names.

 

“Lord Tywin. Lord Edmure,” she greeted and Oberyn just smiled. “It’s a pleasure to speak in a place that isn’t so hostile,” she said as she walked in, looking at the map that they had set up. It was much like the one she had left in Storms End.

 

“I trust your take over of Kings Landing went well?” Edmure asked and Carlys smirked.

 

“I’m here. Alliser is locked in a dungeon.” She turns her attention back to Tywin. Although they were all lords in their own right, they all had their own armies to command, Carlys wasn’t naïve. Tywin was the leader; the Lannister lord was always the leader. “Lord Tywin, do we have a plan of attack?”

 

Even Tywin seemed surprised by her bluntness, but still barely reacted. Oberyn laughed. “We have been traveling together for weeks. Still, your thirst for battle surprises me.”

 

“It’s not a thirst for battle. I only want the rebellion that my brother started years ago. Rhaegar Targayen should have been killed years ago. We are setting things right,” she said. “It’s a thirst for revenge if anything.”

 

“You will get what you want,” Tywin said, seeming far more amicable than he had been in Kings Landing.  “But first you must march up north. Treat with Robb Stark.”

 

She paused. “Robb Stark? Why?”

 

“He hasn’t declared a side. The North could make or break this rebellion. We either need him to join us, or give him a reason not to join the Targaryens.” Tywin reasoned, and Carlys shook her head.

 

“I understand that, but why me?”

 

“Well, you and Lady Catelyn,” Tywin said, causing Edmure to glance at him. “Lady Catelyn has already been speaking to him, although it hasn’t been enough. The Stark’s and the Baratheon’s formed the last rebellion, it was a strong bond.”

 

“A bond between my brother and his father. I don’t know the boy,” she argued. She had seen Robb Stark in Kings Landing, even when she was little she had met him once, but that was it. All she knew about him was that his face kind of looked like Eddard’s. She had barely known Eddard either.

 

“It doesn’t matter that you barely know him. You are a prominent leader, you lead the army of the Storms. It shows our respect that we would send you.” Tywin had already made up his mind, she figured, so she only nodded.

 

“Alright, and what do I offer him?” She asked. “We can’t offer him lordship, or castles. He has those. I don’t suppose any of you have a marriage offer you would like to extend?” She looked at Tywin. “Perhaps your daughter, Cersei.” Cersei was far older than Robb, but she was still a beautiful woman and a rich one at that.

 

“We will have more to offer once the rebellion is over. A seat on the small council, power, land.”

 

“He’s a young man. He’ll want a pretty woman,” Carlys said, thinking of how Robert was at Robb’s age. Oberyn nodded in agreement.

 

“At the moment, that is what we lack. Pretty women,” Oberyn said absentmindedly.

 

“Didn’t you say you had daughters?” Carlys asked him and he nodded.

 

“Bastards.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“While you are up North, we will advance on The Reach,” Tywin cut in, growing impatient with the conversation. “The Tyrell’s are the Targaryen’s only allies. Once they see that there is no chance, they will fold.”

 

Carlys was almost sad at the thought of missing an attack on High Garden, since it had been Mace Tyrell who laid siege to Storms End so many years ago, but she didn’t protest. She could see what Tywin was doing, keeping her away from the actual fight. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was only a lady, untrained in battle, or because she was unpredictable. But she knew better than to argue it there. There were other ways to gain power, and she would see battle soon enough.

 

Her thoughts were drowned out as the rest of the men in the room began to discuss the plans for an assault of The Reach, attacking the smaller strongholds to lure out the Tyrell’s. The Martell and Lannister armies were big enough, but with the addition of the Riverland and Stormland armies, they were completely dominant.

 

Soon after the plans were made, Oberyn excused himself, exhausted from the march over. Edmure was gone soon after, and many of the banners left. Carlys told Beric to go back to camp, so she was left with just Tywin.

 

She remembered she used to be terrified at the thought of Tywin Lannister after Robert had admitted to her that he found him terrifying. She saw Robert as invincible back then, so the thought of him being afraid made that thing even more fearful. He lived up to expectations though. He wasn’t a particularly large man, or strong man, but there was a presence of him that felt intimidating unlike any other man she had met. He was truly a lion. He was writing something down on a piece of parchment, she watched him for a moment before breaking the silence.

 

“Lord Tywin,” she said and he glanced up at her. “We haven’t gotten the chance to speak alone.”

 

He finished what he was writing and then looked up at her. “No, we haven’t.”

 

She sat across from him and he watched her like a lion would watch a stag, like prey. But he was only a man. She kept reminding herself of that.

 

“Is there anything I can offer to the wolf?” She asked and he shook his head. “It will go smoother if I had something. He doesn’t know me, and if he hasn’t listened to his mother by now…”

 

“We don’t have a marriage to offer, unless you mean Cersei. You would be better to offer him power, a seat in Kings Landing once the rebellion is done.”

 

“What if he wants something else?” She asked. “His family is in Kings Landing. Jaehaerys Targaryen has Stark blood. That could be an offer we could make. His safety for Robb’s loyalty.”

 

“And his aunt Lyanna?”

 

“Her head is mine,” Carlys said quickly, which actually made Tywin smirk for a brief moment. “I don’t think he will care for her once he finds out that she is the reason that his father died. He likes Jaehaerys. I saw them together in Kings Landing.”

 

“Rhaegar Targaryen showed mercy and left the families of the men he killed alive,” Tywin said as he poured a glass of wine, passing it to her. “You should know, you were a member of that family. Rhaegar Targaryen is regretting his decision.”

 

“It isn’t mercy for the sake of mercy, Lord Tywin. We can kill all other Targaryen’s. It is mercy for the sake of a powerful ally.”

 

“If you think that it would work then offer it,” Tywin conceded and she nodded. “Although, I don’t think we will be killing all other Targaryen’s. If Martell gets his way we will be crowning another one.”

 

She thought back to Oberyn and frowned. “What?”

 

“His Nephew, Aegon Targaryen. I don’t imagine he wants to take the throne from who he views as the rightful heir. It helps that the two share blood.” Tywin said each word carefully, watching Carlys every second. Her eyes stayed locked with his. “Had he said anything to you about it?”

 

“I had forgotten that Aegon was his nephew,” she commented. He had talked about Elia a lot on the road, but never her children. It had slipped her mind. “I’m not fighting to crown another Targaryen.”

 

“None of us are,” Tywin said as he sipped his own wine. “Do you see yourself as queen?”

 

She laughed. “No. I only want the Storms, not all of Westeros.”

 

“Well, you are perhaps the only lady not aiming so high,” he said with a small smile. “You must be tired. I trust you know where you will be staying? Shall I have a bannermen escort you?”

 

She thought of Sandor Clegane and shook her head. “No thank you, Lord Tywin. I will be fine as it is,” she assured him and stood. Before she left she lingered at the table, watching him for a moment longer before asking, “Do you see yourself as King?”

 

“It doesn’t matter how we see ourselves now, it only matters of what happens in the future,” Tywin said, avoiding her question. “You and I have the same interests, and we are both driven by similar things. The Lannister’s and the Baratheon’s are natural allies. You and I will have a lot more to talk about before this war is over, Lady Carlys. For now, you should rest.”

 

Carlys nodded and turned from him. She took in a breath when her back was turned, and left the tent.

 

Perhaps that was why Robert feared Tywin Lannister so much. He could make people question just about anything.


	28. Robb

The roses had planted their roots and Winterfell before Robb could have really done anything about it.

 

No agreement had been made, although the young wolf figured he couldn’t put off the decision for much longer. Only a few Tyrell’s had arrived, they had sent a letter beforehand, but Robb didn’t think they would actually come. Margaery Tyrell came with her brother Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers. The name was misleading, Robb knew he was as strong as any other, stronger than he was. When they had arrived, Robb was struck by Margaery’s beauty, she had such a kind smile. They assured him that it was only a friendly visit, to get to know him better, but Robb knew better. It was no coincidence why the Tyrell’s had shown up. The armies were gathering in the Westerlands, the war was about to begin.

 

The Tyrell’s wanted the North. He knew that. But still, he let them in, gave them guest rights. They had been there for a fortnight, and Robb received word that the armies had come together, much larger than what they had originally predicted. Carlys Baratheon was leading the Storms, Oberyn Martell had actually gotten the Dornish to unite with other kingdoms. It made Robb feel nervous, and he hadn’t even picked a side.

 

“You are going to have quite the problem getting back home,” Robb Stark told Margaery Tyrell when he saw her. She looked out of place in the north, the furs looked unnatural piled on her shoulders, but it was the only way to keep her warm. She turned to Robb and gave one of her pretty smiles.

 

“I think we will be alright, Lord Stark. We know other ways of getting home,” she said and looked back over the wall of Winterfell. Snow had already started to fall further north, but they could see it from there. “It is so very different here. You’ve lived here your whole life, m’lord?”

 

“Yes,” he said, although he had spent a lot of time away from Winterfell as well. Riverrun was almost like a second home to him. “I know many southerners who say the cold is unbearable. My own mother had never gotten used to it.”

 

“I don’t quite mind the cold,” Margaery said, “It is different than High Garden though.”

 

“Do you miss home?”

 

“My family sometimes, not home.” She turned to him and he turned to her. She had kind eyes. “Lord Robb, may I ask… have you made a decision on who you will support?”

 

He turned back to look over the wall. He wasn’t expecting her to bring up such a matter, she was only a lady, but he realized when she first came not to expect anything from her. She wasn’t like other southern ladies he knew. Her kindness seemed genuine, and she was tougher than she looked. She never complained about the cold, even when he saw her shiver. She was good at playing the part of a proper northern lady. She was still out of place.

 

“I won’t tell anyone what you say.” She put her hand on his shoulder and he turned his head to look at her. She smiled softly. “It must be difficult to be so young and have such a decision to make.”

 

“I’m old enough for it,” he argued, “I only see both sides. I have family on one side, but family on the other. My mother has declared her side, but… I don’t think Rhaegar is such a bad king.” He knew not to say much, although it did feel good to talk to someone else.

 

“He isn’t. Although he will lose his throne,” Margaery said almost casually, catching Robb off guard. When he didn’t say anything, only stared at her, she shrugged. “Four of the kingdoms are against him. He may be able to fight them off, but…”

 

“Does your family not support the dragon king anymore?” He asked, and she shook her head.

 

“No, I’m only being realistic. We are loyal to the Targaryen’s, and we will go to war for him soon.” Her eyes locked with his. “Hopefully, you will as well.”

 

“I haven’t decided-“

 

“Have you ever thought of being King?” She asked suddenly, changing the subject.

 

“No, I haven’t.” He thought about Jaehaerys, his cousin. He was next in line for the throne, even if Rhaegar was to be killed in battle. “I am not in line for the throne. I’m not royal. There’s no reason for me to think of such a thing.”

 

“Well, before the rebellion perhaps.” She turned her gaze away from him and walked closer to the wall, looking over the side for a moment before turning her gaze up to the sky. “The Targeryen’s are in trouble. There is a good chance that they will be overthrown. All we can do is try to make sure that there won’t be a worse king put in his place.”

 

He stayed silent, thinking it over.

 

“Tywin Lannister would serve his own needs, not those of anyone else,” she said, thinking of the rest of the rebels. “Everyone has heard the stories of Oberyn Martell, and I doubt the kingdom would want a Dornish king for long. Carlys Baratheon is… unpredictable. She would make a terrible queen.” She looked back at him. “And I’m not sure about your uncle Edmure.”

 

“He wouldn’t be king,” Robb said, although of the four he may have been the best option. He was far too passive to take the crown though.

 

“Their rebellion is dangerous, and we could end up with a king or queen who could destroy the realm.” She still sounded so calm. Robb acted calm, but the words were weighing heavy on his mind. “You though, you are different, Lord Stark.”

 

“How am I different?” He asked. He thought back to what Benjen said about his father. Eddard didn’t want to be king, he only wanted his sister back. He didn’t rebel for power.

 

“You are true, you are honorable. You aren’t selfish like the rest. If you join the rebellion it will be for the right reasons.” She smiled at him again. “You would be a fine king if it came to it.”

 

“If I were to be king, I would have to rebel,” Robb said slowly. “You are with the Targaryen’s. Are you not, m’lady?”

 

“I am with you, Lord Stark. If you accept our family’s alliance, then I will be loyal to you.” Her hand ran over the dark stone of Winterfell and over to his hand. Her fingers played with his. “I want you to be king. I could be your queen.”

 

Robb wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted. He tried to think more of his father, about what he would have done. Would Eddard Stark have been okay with such a thing?

 

But he didn’t know because he had never even met the man.

 

So he stood there, thinking of the words _King Robb._


	29. Lyanna

Lyanna hated being unable to do anything to help herself, to help her son.

 

She was already sick of Rhaegar saying that things would be fine, that he could handle it. She remembered the first time she had fallen in love with him, he was the opposite of Robert. Robert only saw her as a prize, as the “greatest beauty in the North”. He treated her like a child when they would be together, never saw her true strength, even when she showed him. Rhaegar was different, she thought. He admired her for her strength, saw her as the true wolf that she was.

 

But when it came to the rebellion, he treated her just like he would any other lady. Tried to calm her with platitudes that meant nothing, gave her soothing lies that she knew were lies. If she wanted to get the truth then she had to go over his head, go to Varys or, god forbid, Littlefinger. They didn’t want to tell her anything either. Every day she would see Rhaegar go off to talk to Tyrion, and every day he would come back with another layer of worry on his face.

 

The rebellion was growing out of control, and it would be on their doorstep soon enough.

 

When Rhaegar came back to their room after another evening with his council, Lyanna looked at him. He tried to smile, but before he could say anything to calm her, she asked, “Should I be leaving with Jaehaerys?”

 

Rhaegar blinked a few times. “Why would you ask that?” He asked as she shook her head, crossing to the other side of the room. “Lyanna, what’s going on?”

 

“I don’t know. And that’s the problem, Rhaegar, you won’t tell me,” she growled. “I know enough to know that people will be marching at our gates, that we are in a war. That half of your kingdoms intend to have your head on a spike and probably mine and our son’s too. But you won’t tell me anything so that I can do anything. So, do I need to take Jaehaerys and leave before they kill us?”

 

“No! Gods Lyanna, you don’t have to leave, I would never let them hurt you,” he said and walked to her, taking her hands. “I would never let them hurt you or Jaehaerys. I’ve only been protecting you.”

 

“Keeping me in the dark is not protecting me,” she said and he sighed, closing his eyes. “Sit down, and tell me what’s going on. You may be the king, but I am the queen. You said when we married that these became my kingdoms too. I don’t intend to let them fall to ruin.”

 

Rhaegar sat down and she sat across from him, folding her hands in her lap as she listened. Rhaegar always had a way about him, he was always so calm and easy, even during the first rebellion. When he left for the Trident, she was more worried about his life than he was. He only smiled, and kissed her, and said he would be back. He came back. But when they sat together then, she could nearly feel the tension coming off his body. When she looked at him, she barely saw Rhaegar. She more saw his brother, Viserys, who had a touch of the Targaryen madness. Rhaegar wasn’t mad though, she told herself. He was only stressed.

 

“Carlys Baratheon took back the Storms,” Rhaegar said. “Alliser Thorne is locked in a dungeon in Storms End, only one person remained loyal to him and told us anything about it. The rest of the bannermen rallied to Carlys, because of Renly of course. She has an army behind her, and she isn’t the only one.”

 

Lyanna shook her head when she remembered Renly. He truly was the only thing keeping her loyal. After the first rebellion, Lyanna felt guilty enough for the bloodshed, but she had secretly wished that Rhaegar had exiled the Baratheon’s instead of keeping them where they were. Robert had always been hot-headed and dangerous, and his sister was apparently no different.

 

“Who are they allied with?” Lyanna asked and he thought.

 

“The Martells, the Lannisters, and the Tullys. Together their army is massive. Scouts say they are in the Westerlands, biding their time. It’s only a matter of time before they march on the Crownlands.”

 

“The Martells…” she repeated, thinking about them. Elia flashed through her mind, and she quickly shook her out. “Would the Martells be willing to back off if you gave them Rhaenys and Aegon?”

 

Rhaegar paused. “Only if we crown them. If we keep them, then they’re angry anyway. If we give them back, then they are insulted that they were passed in line of succession.”

 

Lyanna pinched the bridge of her nose. Just another insult that Rhaegar laid at another houses feet. “What do the others want?”

 

“They want revenge,” Rhaegar said and Lyanna shook her head.

 

“These people aren’t so narrow-minded to only march in rebellion for revenge,” she said. “Perhaps Carlys Baratheon is, but the rest have other motives. They want power, they want control.”

 

Rhaegar paused and looked at her as she stood again, pacing the room. “On our side who do we have?”

 

“The Tyrell’s,” Rhaegar said and she stopped.

 

“Only them?”

 

“The Starks haven’t declared either way,” he told her, “they haven’t responded to any letters or envoys we have sent, but the Tyrell’s have made their way there. They are offering their daughter Margaery to Robb Stark.”

 

She had almost forgotten that it was her nephew as lord and not her brother. Benjen would have been easier to deal with, she at least knew who he was. “You should have offered Daenerys to Robb,” she said and he sighed. “Is there anyone else undeclared?”

 

“The Greyjoys,” Rhaegar said, “Tyrion wants to make them an offer to get their ships on our side. The Iron Fleet is better than nothing.”

 

“Good.” Lyanna started to count out who they had in her head. Even with the North, it was dicey, no doubt Tywin Lannister would have the money to bring over sellswords from Essos if they wanted to, which could make their army even larger. “We won’t be able to convince them all to join us, but if we get one of their armies off the board then we will have a better time fighting.”

 

“Who do you suggest?”

 

“The Baratheon's won’t take anything we offer, and we need to take them down anyway. They’ll never be reliable allies,” Lyanna started. “The Martell’s are dangerous too. The Tully’s… If we can get the North then there’s a chance we can strike a deal with them. Perhaps we can offer their lord Daenerys? As for the Lannister’s, Tywin has a daughter, Cersei. She can marry Viserys.”

 

“Varys suggested the same thing,” Rhaegar told her, “Tyrion said that Tywin would never allow it. Not after what happened to Jaime.”

 

“Offer it anyway,” Lyanna said. “If they won’t take it, then we will go to war. Once we have the North. We must try to end this peacefully, for the sake of the realm.”

 

“Yes, of course.” Rhaegar sounded exhausted, and Lyanna went back to his side. She kissed him softly and quickly, and he looked at her. “Is this my fault, Lyanna?”

 

She didn’t know what to say. She thought back to all the things that he could have done differently, all the people he could have exiled or killed, all the different ways that he could have kept them happy. But then she thought of herself. If she hadn’t married him then the first rebellion wouldn’t have happened, then this one wouldn’t even possible.

 

But she didn’t know what to say. So, she squeezed his shoulder and went to go find Tyrion Lannister to discuss what they should do next.


	30. Catelyn

“So, Lady Catelyn, why exactly hasn’t your son declared for the rebellion?”

 

It was almost a month into the journey when Carlys finally asked the question. Catelyn thought that perhaps she was being polite by avoiding addressing the obvious question. She hadn’t had much interaction with the Baratheon’s before the rebellion, although she had met Carlys’ brother Robert before. He was polite enough to her, although that may have been because she was Brandon’s betrothed and he didn’t want to meet the anger of the oldest Stark son, but she had heard the rumors. Robert was a drunk, and brash. Catelyn was almost expecting the same from his sister, and she was far from a proper lady. But she wasn’t impolite.

 

In truth, Catelyn didn’t know how to answer the question though, it was one she had been asking herself for months. He seemed so eager to do something, perhaps even rebel when they left Kings Landing all those months ago. Had she been the one to talk him out of it? She only wanted for him to consider his options, to not run into battle and get himself killed. But if he hesitated for much longer, then he wouldn’t be looked upon fondly by either side he joined.

 

They were traveling in a small group and since most of their traveling was through the Riverlands and up North, Catelyn insisted they were safe. She had been a Stark, once, and the Baratheon’s and the Stark’s had been friends once upon a time. Carlys only had some of her men, Lord Dondarrion being by her side as he always seemed to be, and the rest were with her Lords in the Westerlands. Edmure had sent Catelyn with some Riverlands men, and their uncle Brynden came along too. Catelyn was grateful he had, not only for her own company, but he kept Carlys distracted too. She was like a little boy, asking him about his exploits in different wars over the years, and he was all but happy to tell her about it.

 

But, she couldn’t be distracted forever, and eventually, she did turn her attention to Catelyn, and asked the question she was still unprepared for.

 

“Robb is his own Lord,” she said carefully, considering each word. “He has to think of what is best for his people, what is best for the North. He only has been a lord for half a year.”

 

“He chose quite a time to take his claim,” Carlys commented. “Smart boy. He has the most leverage now, can get what he wants. Although he’d be smart to declare soon. The others are impatient.”

 

“Are you patient?” Catelyn asked her and she smirked.

 

“I only want what I want, revenge. I would rather have the North on our side, but if he stays out of the war then that works just as well for me. I won’t be holding any grudges against him if he leaves us alone,” she admitted with a casual shrug. “The Baratheon’s and the Stark’s were supposed to be allies before Lyanna ran off, but the Stark’s seemed like family anyway. I remember once Robert brought Eddard to Storms End, they were like brothers. Eddard was quiet, but kind. Robb kind of looks like him.”

 

Catelyn smiled sadly. Carlys was right, Robb did look a little bit like Ned. “It isn’t too late to unite the houses,” Catelyn said, thinking of her own idea. They would have to give Robb something enticing to get him to join. “You have a daughter?”

 

“Helenys, yes. She is still young, but of a proper age.” Carlys glanced back over her shoulder at Catelyn. “I’m not sure if she’s actually a Baratheon though. She’s a Thorne by law.”

 

“I’m sure whoever becomes king could declare her a Baratheon. She is your daughter, and you were forced into your marriage,” Catelyn said, although that didn’t mean much. Ladies were forced into most marriages. She barely knew Ned when she married him, she just got lucky that he was a good man.

 

“You would want to join your son and my daughter in marriage?” Carlys asked. Catelyn kept her eyes ahead, not answering right away. The faintest snow had fallen already, and the chill up north was getting worse.

 

“I think you and I need the allies that we can get.” Catelyn wasn’t delusional, she knew that her family didn’t have much power in the Kingdom to bargain with, even if they were in the rebellion. The Baratheon’s were barely a house anyway, there was only one standing. Together they had more power than they were apart, and if they could bring Robb in then their coalition could be as large as it was during the first rebellion. “How is your daughter, Lady Baratheon?”

 

“Please, call me Carlys.” She slowed her horse so that she was riding closer to Catelyn. “She wasn’t talking to me by the time I left, not that I can blame her. I did lock her father in a dungeon, and she did love him. She still does. She’s smart, but I don’t think she understands the rebellion. She just thinks I’m a traitor, the traitor that took away her beloved father.”

 

Catelyn thought about the girl, and about Alliser Thorne. Beloved would never be a word she would have associated with the man. “May I ask, what was it like all those years to be married to him?”

 

“I’m not sure if it was any worse than any other lord I would have married had the rebellion not failed,” Carlys admitted. “He wasn’t a terrible husband, and you don’t lose children with someone without forming some connection. I don’t know. I was only worried about Renly for most of it, and I hated not being a Baratheon. It was more the insult of being a prisoner that bothered me than being married to him. Alliser was Alliser. Ladies do our duties, marry who we must, right?”

 

Catelyn nodded, even though she did at least like the man that she married. Eddard was a good man, she still found herself missing him. “Will you marry again?”

 

“If I have to. I am the Lady of the Storms, I may get more suitors than I’d think,” she admits. “Will you remarry?”

 

Catelyn shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose there is much reason for me to marry.”

 

“If you marry the right man, you could end up as the queen of the seven kingdoms.” Carlys smirked. “You’d be a lot better than the one we have now.”

 

Catelyn had never considered being queen, and she pushed the notion from her head before it could take root. She looked ahead and saw the walls of the castle that was so familiar. The black of the stone contrasted against the thin white blanket of snow on the ground.

 

“That’s Winterfell,” Catelyn said, although it was still in the distance. “We can make it by tonight.”

 

“And you’re sure Robb will let us in?” Carlys asked and Catelyn nodded.

 

“For me, yes.”

 

“Then let us ride. We don’t want to spend another night in the snow.”

 

Carlys sped ahead to the front of the group on her horse. Catelyn felt a twist in her stomach, one she never felt when she was going towards Winterfell.

 

But Robb hadn’t declared, so she couldn’t know if they were riding into friendly territory or that of an enemy.


	31. Robb

Robb was surprised when he heard that he had visitors from the South, especially when one was his mother.

 

The Tyrell’s were still in Winterfell, still trying to convince Robb that he could be king. He didn’t even know what side they fought on anymore because they didn’t sound like Targaryen loyalists. As soon as he heard that others, that rebels, were coming though, he sent Margaery off to go spend time with Loras, although he figured that she wouldn’t stay out of it for very long. It wasn’t her way.

 

He sat in the great hall when the visitors came in. Tension had built in his shoulders, but he was trying his best to look relaxed. Dealing with his mother was easy enough, but he had never met Carlys Baratheon. His father and her brother were like brothers themselves, but now she was a part of the rebellion that he hadn’t declared either side for. He still didn’t intend on declaring a side.

 

When they entered, he rose to his feet. His mother bowed her head, even though she didn’t have to, and Carlys only smiled at him, giving a small bow herself. “Lord Stark,” she said as he walked forward. He had seen her many times, but she looked bigger now, stronger. She was no longer dressed like a lady. Still, when he approached her, he took her hand and kissed it.

 

“I welcome you to Winterfell, Lady Baratheon,” he said politely and then glanced at Catelyn. “You too, mother. I hope you both had a safe journey here.”

 

“You really do look like him,” Carlys said randomly, making Robb take notice of her again. She was staring at him. “Your father. I only met him a couple of times but you look a lot like him.”

 

“You met my father?” He asked and she nodded.

 

“He was like a brother to my own brother. He came to the Storms once, and I saw him at a tourney,” she said with a smile. “He was a good man. Like family to us.”

 

“Aye, I have heard stories. Our families were to be bound by marriage.” Robb took some steps back, looking at her. She seemed calm, and he knew he had little reason to be afraid of her. “It is unfortunate that we never were bound. It would have been better to have us strong together.”

 

“Things do change,” Carlys said flatly, but then smiled again. “But that isn’t at the fault of anyone in this room. I would like for Stark’s and Baratheon’s to be friends once again. Don’t you agree?”

 

“I do.” Robb gave back a small smile, still thinking about Margaery, about what she said. _King Robb_. “Not that your visit isn’t appreciated, but may I ask why you are here?”

 

“Why do you think?” Carlys asked, but elaborated anyway. “We are here to try and convince you to join our side in the rebellion. We wanted to visit you personally, out of respect. We know that as Warden of the North you are a busy man.”

 

“Yes, of course.” Robb thought about the Tyrell’s. “I feel a need to tell you though, you are not the only visiting families in Winterfell. The Tyrell’s are here as well.”

 

Catelyn didn’t react, and Carlys merely paused, taking in a breath. “The Tyrell’s?” She repeated, and he nodded. “Is it Mace Tyrell, by any chance?”

 

“His children, Margaery and Loras.”

 

“Oh.” She seemed to release some of the tension in her shoulders. He had heard of what the Tyrell’s did during the rebellion, Mace Tyrell was the one to lead the Siege of Storms End, where Carlys was as well during the war.

 

“Will this be a problem, m’lady?” Robb asked and she shook her head.

 

“No. Of course not. The Tyrell’s are no more to blame for their parent’s actions as anyone in this rebellion,” she sounded insincere, but Robb wasn’t about to call her out on it. “I assume they come from the Targaryen side of this fight?”

 

“They have only come to talk,” Robb said, avoiding saying more, but Carlys nodded.

 

“I’m sure they have many interesting things to say,” she said and looked at him closer. “It is your decision at the end of the day, Lord Stark. Only remember who fought alongside your family, and who slaughtered them. I heard tales of how Rickard and Brandon Stark died at the hands of the Targaryen King. The Rebellion was for them as much as any other… and their deaths were not answered for.”

 

 _They were. Jaime Lannister killed the man who killed them._ Robb thought to himself, but he didn’t say it out loud. Carlys was less than subtle, but the bluntness was better than how everyone else talked. She had nothing to hide, everyone else had everything to hide.

 

“Your brother and my father fought together well, and I will not overlook that when making my decision,” Robb told her honestly. “You must be tired though. My men will show you to a room, and we can discuss this more tomorrow.”

 

She backed away with a small smile. “Of course. Thank you, Lord Stark.”

 

She was led away by some of his men and Robb turned to Catelyn. “Did Tywin Lannister send you as envoys?” He asked and she sighed.

 

“They only want to know if you will be against us. They don’t care if you don’t fight.”

 

“Of course they’ll care. It will reflect on the North for generations if I don’t fight,” Robb said with a sigh of his own, letting down some of his guards. It was only him and his mother now. “Do you know what they intend to offer me?”

 

“The safety of Jaehaerys Targaryen,” she said, and he perked up in surprise. He had been worrying about Jaehaerys in the capital, he figured that most of the rebels would want all Targaryen’s dead. “They have more to offer. A seat on the small council, more influence in the kingdoms. I think Carlys might want to offer her daughter to you.”

 

He couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “I’ve been offered Margaery Tyrell as well.” He paused before walking closer to her, lowering his voice to speak in hushed tones. “The Tyrell’s believe that the Targaryen’s will fall. I believe they mean to make other arrangements.”

 

Catelyn’s eyebrows raised. “What other arrangements?” She asked and he sighed.

 

“She suggested I may take the crown,” he said and she shook her head.

 

“That’s too dangerous.”

 

“Of the rebels, I don’t know who would be king,” Robb argued, although he hadn’t been expecting to argue for the throne. It wasn’t what he wanted, he thought. “Are we only fighting for Tywin Lannister to take the throne? Or for Oberyn Martell?”

 

“You aren’t fighting at all. You haven’t picked a side,” Catelyn snapped and he took a step back. “This is a dangerous game you are playing.”

 

“Look at it this way. If we have the North, the Reach, the Riverlands, that is three kingdoms all united,” Robb said. “Carlys Baratheon seems to want to have her own alliance with us. If we add the Storm’s to that then we can crown who we want.”

 

“She won’t work with the Tyrell’s. They killed her brother,” Catelyn said flatly and Robb shook his head. “Stay out of the fight for the throne, Robb. It is too dangerous. You’ll get yourself killed.”

 

“You have no faith, mother,” Robb muttered. “You must be tired as well. We can discuss this more tomorrow.”

 

Catelyn seemed annoyed, but she left none the less. Robb looked around the great hall of Winterfell. It felt emptier than usual, a lot colder as well.

 

He turned around and went to go find Margaery.


	32. Beric

Beric couldn’t help himself but worry about his lady.

 

He had been loyal to the Baratheon’s since the day he was born, it was part of what defined his family. Each generation swore their banner to house Baratheon, his father and his father before him did the same thing. But when Beric’s father died in the rebellion, and house Baratheon was defeated, he was given an impossible choice; swear to house Thorne, or lose the lands that his family had owned for generations.

 

There was one good thing about the new house Thorne, and that was the lady. Carlys Baratheon was to marry Alliser Thorne, they were to join the two houses. It made it slightly more palatable for the Baratheon loyalist when he did bend the knee to the new lord of the Storms. He was looking at her when he swore the oath, mumbled her name when it came to that. He wasn’t a Dondarrion if he swore to anyone but a Baratheon, it wasn’t what his family did. He swore his oath to her, so when she told him to ignore the orders of Alliser Thorne, it was no problem for him. He swore her his sword, and he had been by her side ever since.

 

And yet he worried about her. She was a lady who hadn’t ruled for her entire life, and suddenly she had been given an entire realm, an army to lead. She had the confidence of any other Baratheon, commanded attention with her presence, and despite being a woman, her men seemed to respect her. She had a good rallying cry, rallying them around her dead brothers, the disrespect that had been laid upon the Storms. That wasn’t what made him fearful, her banners were hers.

 

He was unsure if she could match up with the lords she marched with. Lannister’s, Martell’s, Tyrell’s, all known for their cunning. The Baratheon’s were stags, and she was a stag through and through. She was blunt, aggressive. She knew what she wanted and that was Lyanna’s head on a spike and that was all. Beric knew that to be true, but it didn’t sound right to others. She was a lady, a lady who had been held down for thirteen years who now had the opportunity to grasp power. Everyone in the seven kingdoms wanted power. He saw how the other lords looked at her like she was prey that would be easy to manipulate.

 

She wasn’t as clueless as they thought she was, but she wasn’t as smart as she thought she was. That was what made him worry.

 

“I think the young wolf is going to want to make an alliance between us and the Tyrell’s,” Carlys said when they were finally alone. She had finally let down her guard, but he wasn’t about to. They were in another Lord’s castle, a Lord who hadn’t declared on either side. “The Tyrell’s who are still with the Targaryen’s. This might be a short trip.”

 

“You wouldn’t consider an alliance with them?” Beric asked and she shook her head. “May I ask why, m’lady?”

 

“You don’t need to be so formal with me.” She smiled lightly. “And we can’t trust the Tyrell’s. I don’t want to work with them. We should just go back to the Westerlands and regroup.”

 

“If that is what you say,” he said and she glanced at him.

 

“What do you think?”

 

“I think that we should be wary to trust anyone,” Beric admitted. “Tywin Lannister is notorious for being untrustworthy. Oberyn Martell only wants to serve his own needs.”

 

“Everyone only wants to serve their own needs. I’m under no impression that they are fighting for me. They fight to topple the Targaryen’s so our interests align,” she said reasonably. “Besides, Tywin Lannister didn’t starve my family. He didn’t lay siege to my land and kill my brother. The Tyrell’s did.”

 

“Your family worked well with the Stark’s before,” he reminded her and she sighed.

 

“Robert and Eddard did. Robert was also betrothed to Lyanna and she left. She caused the whole rebellion. I don’t intend to be burned by a Stark again.” She set aside her sword and looked at Beric. “The truth is it will be hard to trust anyone. I’m the only true Baratheon left, we don’t have strong alliances with anyone, unless you count the marriages of my cousins. Most of those dissolved after the rebellion though.”

 

“Are you thinking of marrying again?” He asked and she shrugged.

 

“It’s a way to create alliances. That is what we need. If we have a family we can truly trust then perhaps we can finally get on with the actual rebellion.” She let down her hair and sat on the bed that was in the room they were provided. “It’s so cold here, how do they handle it?”

 

“Would you like my cloak?” Beric asked and she shook her head. “Who would you consider marrying?”

 

“I’m not sure. It depends who we align with. Tywin Lannister brought up becoming a queen,” she said almost casually. He raised an eyebrow but kept his calm. “I don’t want to be queen though. But Tywin is a powerful ally.”

 

“If you want to be tied to the Lannisters,” he commented.

 

“I don’t have many choices.” She frowned. “Do you think Lord Oberyn would try to crown Prince Aegon?”

 

“That would make sense.”

 

“That is what I fear. I’m not fighting to crown another Targaryen.”

 

“Who are you fighting to crown?”

 

She paused. “I don’t know.” She fell back onto the bed and he shifted slightly. It wasn’t exactly common for a lady to be so casual with her bannermen, although he heard that Robert was much the same way. “I fear that they only want to use my army. I want the Storms, I want Lyanna’s head. Would marriage truly give me power, or would it only give me another Alliser that I have to bow to?”

 

“I don’t think you will be in that position again. Not when I am with you,” he said, “You were a prisoner with Alliser. You are a lady now. If you marry, they will have to lock horns with a stag to make decisions. You own the Storms, I would like to see any lord try to take over your land. Your army are loyal to you as a Baratheon, they wouldn’t bend just to a Lannister because he is your husband.”

 

“So you believe I will marry Tywin Lannister?” She asked and he chuckled.

 

“Tywin, Oberyn, Edmure, perhaps even Benjen. They are all the same. Only a method to make an alliance.”

 

“True.” She sat up again and smiled at him lightly. He had missed her smile for the years that she was a prisoner, Storms End wasn’t the same since after the rebellion. It was so empty and lifeless. “Thank you for being here with me, Lord Dondarrion. You are my most trusted sword.”

 

“Of course, m’lady.” He smiled back.

 

She stood and went to prepare for perhaps another meeting with the young wolf. Beric still felt unsure about her, but he was her sworn sword. No matter her mistakes, he would be there to protect her.


	33. Oberyn

The first battle of the rebellion went to the rebels.

 

It was a small one down in the reach against only a fraction of the Tyrell forces. It ended when half the army fled. It was only a matter of time for the rebels to completely demolish the small battalion, so they actually did make the smart call to run.

 

Oberyn celebrated with wine with Ellaria before he went to go find Tywin and Edmure. He imagined that they wouldn’t be celebrating, Westerosi were so stiff when it came to battle. Still, he found them in the war tent, going over their next move. As he walked in they didn’t stop their conversation for the Dornish prince, not that he minded.

 

“If we can talk to the Queen of Thorns then we have an in,” Tywin declared as he looked at the map of The Reach. “We can sway her over to our side, or at least convince her to get her son to back down his armies.”

 

“The Tyrell’s are Targaryen loyalists,” Edmure countered. Oberyn just looked at the roses across the map. He always wondered why they would choose a rose as their sigil. There was nothing quite threatening about it, the flower didn’t strike fear into the hearts of all who saw it. Although he thought of his own sigil, which did have a deeper meaning to it than just to threaten enemies.

 

“The Tyrell’s are opportunists. They will back whoever will win. They always have, and there is no reason that they won’t now.”

 

“Unless the Targaryen’s offer them something they can’t resist,” Oberyn cut in, looking up from the roses at the two others in the room. He smiled. “They have a crown prince who is not promised to anyone. And as I recall, they have a young lady. Margaery Tyrell. Marrying into the royal family is something that they don’t want to refuse.”

 

“That offer will mean nothing if the Targaryen’s fall.” Tywin’s gaze wandered to look at Oberyn, their eyes meeting. “Perhaps you have something better to offer them, Prince Oberyn.”

 

Oberyn didn’t falter in his smile and confidence. “All I have is bastard daughters, Lord Tywin. Nothing fit to offer the lords and ladies of Highgarden.”

 

“As I recall, you have a niece and a nephew with a Targaryen name,” Tywin said, and just at the mention of Rhaenys and Aegon, Oberyn faltered. Only for a moment. He avoided bringing up his niece and nephew when he could, and until that moment, it had worked.

 

“Well, I am not their father,” he reminded him. “It is up to their mother what happens to them. I don’t intend to take her children away from her again by promising them to other houses.”

 

“They are valuable to this rebellion,” Tywin said, “The Targaryen’s know this. You need to become aware of it.”

 

“They are not objects to be traded. They are children.” Oberyn crossed his arms. “I know their value. But they are still the children of their mother. Just because Rhaegar Targaryen took them from her, it does not make her any less their mother. I will return them back to her.”

 

“Is that all you want to do with them?” Tywin asked.

 

Oberyn wanted his nephew on the throne, but he knew better than to say that.

 

“If you have something to say to me, Lord Tywin, then you can simply say it.” Oberyn walked around the table, running his hand over the map but keeping his eyes on Tywin. He stopped just short of him. “We are allies, are we not? It is important that we speak openly. If you have any accusations to lay at my feet, then you should speak them.”

 

The lion stayed as cool as the Martell prince, but the tension in the room could have been cut with a dull training sword. “I have no accusations against you, Prince Martell. I am only curious who you see on the throne?”

 

Oberyn thought of Aegon again. He wasn’t so young anymore, although he would still be quite young to be a king. He couldn’t deny that the boy was a Targaryen, he had the silver hair of his father, purple eyes as well. All Oberyn saw when he looked at him though was Elia. He was his nephew, and he would be a far better king than his father. Aegon would be more honorable, he wouldn’t leave his wife for a girl half his age, he wouldn’t dishonor his family. Aegon may have been a Targaryen by name, by looks, but Oberyn knew that he was a Martell by blood.

 

“I work to return my niece and my nephew to my dear sister,” Oberyn told him, and it wasn’t a lie. “Rhaegar Targaryen disrespected her, dishonored her. He took her children from her. All that is on my mind is to restore my sister’s honor, to restore her children to her. I don’t think of a king, not yet.” He let his eyes wander down to the map, picking up one of the small totems that had the head of a lion on it. “Who do you see as king, Lord Tywin?”

 

Tywin didn’t flinch, he didn’t miss a beat before saying, “Perhaps I see you as King, Prince Oberyn.”

 

Oberyn stopped completely. He tried to study Tywin’s face, but the man wasn’t an easy one to know. He figured that there was no way the Lannister wanted to crown a Dornishman, not without a plan of his own. Tywin did have a daughter, an unmarried one at that. But that couldn’t be it, it couldn’t be that simple.

 

For once, Oberyn felt worried for the rebellion, for his safety in the matter. Tywin went back to looking at the map and went over the plans for the next battle, but Oberyn could barely hear him. He glanced across the tent at Edmure Tully, who had been there the whole time. Perhaps he was the smartest there to not talk.

 

Talking was how you provoked the lion.


	34. Cersei

Cersei hated being away from Casterly Rock, but she wasn’t about to be left behind during the rebellion.

 

She wouldn’t fight, that wasn’t her purpose, it was never her purpose. She was a lion, but not in the way that Jaime was a lion, or Tywin. When they roared, people heard them. When Tywin roared, the rest of the Kingdom’s trembled in fear. Jaime roared with his sword, the greatest swordsman in all of Westeros, she declared in her mind. Even when he was sixteen he was good enough to be a Kingsguard, a high honor for a knight.

 

Cersei had lost her roar when she lost her brother, her twin. She had always loved Jaime more than she had loved anyone in the world, they came into the world with him grasping onto her foot. They were created together, they came into the world together. He was a part of her and they had a connection that no one in the Seven Kingdoms could ever understand, that her father could never understand. She didn’t want to be with anyone if she couldn’t be with Jaime, she had rejected every marriage proposal that came her way. Tywin would have forced her, he tried to force her many times, but although she may have lost her roar, her bite was still strong. She wouldn’t be a proper lady at her wedding, she would shame their family. That was all Tywin cared about, it seemed. How their family looked.

 

It was why she had come with the army, even though it was no place for her. She knew her father, and she knew he would set her up with a husband that she didn’t want, a husband who wasn’t even half the man that Jaime was, and she would have to marry them. There was nothing so disgusting to her.

 

Tywin Lannister returned to the Lannister tent to see his daughter. She sat in a chair holding a glass of red wine, taking a sip. She watched him for awhile as he sat at a table, penning a letter. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t be the one to break the silence, but she let it linger anyway. She wasn’t entirely impatient, but eventually, she said, “You won the battle.”

 

It took a moment for her father to respond. “Yes. We did.”

 

“Congratulations.”

 

Silence fell over them again. Cersei drank the rest of her wine and stood, still holding the glass. She sat across from her father and he didn’t even bother to look up at her. “Are you going to kill Tyrion?” She finally asked, a question she felt as though she had asked hundreds of times. Tywin stopped writing but still didn’t look at her. “He has betrayed us. Become hand of the king to the man who killed Jaime.”

 

“Why are you here?” Tywin finally asked, glancing up. His eyes were icy, even towards his own daughter. “Have you come only to discuss killing your brother again?”

 

“I only want to know. He doesn’t care about Jaime.” She made sure her eyes met his, although her eyes were empty. She had never been a happy girl, but any spark of life within her had gone out when Jaime had died. She never smiled, never laughed. She never did anything.

 

“Jaime is dead. Killing another Lannister won’t bring him back,” Tywin said, although she knew he hadn’t decided yet. Tywin had always hated Tyrion, even more than she did if that was possible. He saw his youngest son as an abomination, Tyrion joining the Targaryen’s only made him worse in their father’s eyes. “It is a new rebellion. We must make our connections where we can, and cut them off where we must.”

 

“And what connections have you made?” Cersei asked, not expecting an answer. He didn’t answer. “I suppose you want me to marry a man. One of the rebels? Perhaps Edmure Tully, although he’s a fool. No power behind him.”

 

“You refuse to do your duty,” Tywin finally said. The candles in the tent flickered. “You have refused to do your duty for many years. You are still young enough to bare an heir to a lord. Now is the time that you will have to marry.”

 

“I will not.”

 

“You will, and you will be queen.”

 

Cersei fell silent. She got up and poured herself another glass of wine, staring down at the sweet red liquid. The reflection of the flames stared back at her, and she turned back to her father.

 

“Why?” She asked finally. “Who would you put me on the throne next to?”

 

“Oberyn Martell,” he said and she raised an eyebrow, going back to her seat and sitting.

 

“Why him?” She asked, but Tywin didn’t respond. “You could take the throne yourself, and yet you give it to the Dornish Prince?”

 

“Who sits on the throne does not necessarily have power,” Tywin told her finally. “The Westerosi won’t want to bow to a Dornishman. He is nothing more than a puppet for us.”

 

“Oberyn Martell is no puppet. You’d be better off to marry me to Edmure. He’s simple. You should be king, not one of these… people.”

 

“He doesn’t have the same power as Oberyn does,” Tywin said. “They expect me to take the throne, they expect that I am treating it like my right. If I take the throne then they will resent me, they will want to fracture the kingdom. We only need a Lannister on the throne.”

 

“Oberyn wants to crown his nephew, not himself.”

 

“I’ve never seen a man refuse the crown when it is offered to him.”

 

“You are.” Cersei avoided her father’s gaze and sipped her wine. “Marry the Baratheon bitch, take the throne for yourself. See them try to stop you.”

 

“You are only avoiding your duty again,” Tywin told her. She didn’t deny it. She only thought of Jaime again, the thought of laying with the Dornishman instead of Jaime made her stomach turn. “You cannot avoid this any longer. You will marry a lord, you will bear his children. You will do your duty, Cersei.” His voice was low, intimidating. That was Tywin’s roar.

 

“Your plans are ever changing,” she commented, which was true. “Day by day the game changes. People die. Who knows who will be left to claim the throne by the time this is done?”

 

“You will do as you are told.” Tywin went back to writing but kept talking anyway. “The Martell army is one of the largest in the seven kingdoms. If our army, the Martell army, and the Baratheon army unite, then we will be a force that cannot be stopped. During a rebellion and after a rebellion are uncertain times. We need power more than you need your pride, more than you need to remain unmarried. So, you will do as you are told, you will be a Lannister once again.”

 

Cersei wanted to protest, but she didn’t. The knew that the day would come that she would have to marry, especially with the rebellion coming. She still hated the thought, no man could ever be Jaime, she could never love a man like she loved him.

 

So, instead of arguing, she turned and left to finish her wine alone.


	35. Carlys

Carlys found it harder to look at the Tyrell’s than she thought she would.

 

It was a Northern feast, as was customary. She had been to one when she was only a child when Robert was going to be sent off to the Eyrie. She could still see the Stark’s sitting at the upper table, Rickard and Brandon who intimidated her back then, Eddard who was quiet but laughed with her brother, Robert. Benjen and Lyanna who were always together. She sat at a lower table with Stannis, him keeping her so close that she couldn’t truly enjoy the feast.

 

She wished that Stannis had been there then. At least then she would feel as though she had family by her side like everyone else did. It was an oddly lonely feeling, one she tried to shake off. She looked down the table at Lord Robb Stark. He was still young but looked like a proper lord. His mother was on his one side, the Tyrell’s on the other. She didn’t know where Benjen Stark was. Robb had offered her a seat at the table, and she didn’t want to insult him, although she hated sitting at the table. They had seated her beside Catelyn, which she appreciated at the very least. She had never been a particularly quiet lady, but she didn’t know what to say to the rest of them, especially when Margaery Tyrell spoke.

 

Eventually, all the voices blended together, and it sounded like nothing to her. She stood. “Pardon me. I need fresh air, I will return.”

 

“Are you alright, my lady?” Robb asked and she nodded, giving a small smile.

 

“Yes. Thank you for your concern.” She knew to say that because of Stannis. He was always on her about her manners. She left the hall without another word, hoping no one followed behind her.

 

As soon as she stepped outside the walls she regretted her decision to leave. The chilling air of Winterfell was still foreign to her and sent a chill through her, making her shiver before she could stop it. She could see her breath as she exhaled, but folded her arms over her chest, hearing the heavy doors shut behind her. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, cherishing the silence.

 

“You needed to escape too?” Her thoughts were broken by a man’s voice, and she took a step back. She looked to her left and saw that it was Benjen Stark. He was dressed in a black cloak and looked warm enough, she tried to hide how cold she felt. She walked over to him and leaned against the wall. It felt frozen.

 

“What are you doing out here?” She asked him and he shrugged.

 

“I could ask you the same thing.” He glanced at her. “Cold?”

 

“No,” she lied, she didn’t know why. He laughed.

 

“This will warm you up.” He passed her a wineskin and she smelled it. Strong wine. She raised an eyebrow.

 

“Are you a drunk now, Lord Stark?” She asked and he shrugged.

 

“When we have visitors, perhaps.”

 

She drank some of the wine and the warmth spread throughout her body. She passed it back to him. “You don’t like visitors?”

 

“Never have. It’s just stranger now with the rebellion,” he admitted. “Every person here wants my sister dead. They are here to convince my nephew to fight against her.”

 

“She’s the reason that our families died,” she said plainly. She looked at him and his gaze was off looking into the training yard. “She’s the reason your brothers are dead as well… how do you do it?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Reconcile that.” She paused, and when he didn’t respond after a minute, she added, “How do you handle the deaths of your brothers?”

 

“I don’t know.” His voice sounded distant. “Everything that happened, she didn’t intend for it to happen. She was only a girl, a girl who was in love. She made a mistake.”

 

“A mistake that killed thousands.” She turned to him. “Robert thought that Rhaegar had stolen her away. Rickard and Brandon thought that he had stolen her away. They went to war to save her when she didn’t need to be saved.”

 

“Rhaegar may as well have stolen her,” he said, “She was only a girl.” He stopped and then shook his head. “I know you hate her. I don’t blame you for hating her. Sometimes I question her myself. She’s my sister, and I love her. But…”

 

She sighed. “It’s odd. I don’t hate you. I don’t hate Robb. Eddard was like a brother to my brother which made him my family. I came here because I don’t want to fight against the Stark’s. The Stark’s and the Baratheon’s were meant to be bound by marriage… I suppose that is how this all started. But I don’t want to fight against you, Benjen Stark.”

 

“You want to kill my sister.”

 

“Your sister is the reason my brothers are dead. The reason your brothers are dead.”

 

“She made a mistake, and your brothers were warriors.” He turned to her and then paused. “I’m sorry about Renly. Robert and Stannis too if that means anything to you. But are you really going to trust the Lannister’s? They’re snakes, Carlys.”

 

“It isn’t as if you give me a choice. I would rather work with the Stark’s, but you aren’t declaring. So, if I have to, I will go back to Tywin Lannister and I will finish what my brother started.”

 

“Robert started the rebellion over a lie and you want to finish that?” Benjen shook his head and took a drink of the strong wine, passing it to her as she took another drink as well. “I’m not the lord anymore. I don’t make these decisions. Convince Robb to go with you, you’ll have your Stark allies.”

 

“You think he won’t listen to you if you talk to him?” She asked and he sighed. “You’re his only true family left.”

 

“I may be. But he won’t listen with Margaery Tyrell whispering in his other ear,” he said bluntly. “She’s far prettier than I am.”

 

“I don’t know about that,” she joked humorlessly. In truth, she had only talked to Benjen a handful of times when they were younger, they danced together at a celebration once. He was quiet, but much happier back then. She figured she was the same way. Even though they did barely know each other, he was one of the few people left from her past who hadn’t died in the rebellion, someone who she couldn’t talk to for years out of fear of conspiracy. She didn’t want to fight him.

 

“If you can promise safety for my sister, then I will tell Robb to march with you,” he said finally, and she closed her eyes. “She’s my blood. Just like your brothers were yours. Safety for her and her son, that is all I ask.”

 

“I can offer the safety of Jaehaerys. Not for her. You ask for the one thing I cannot give.”

 

“The one thing you _won’t_ give. You could if you wanted to. But you don’t want to,” he said and she fell silent. “Eddard always said Robert was stubborn. Maybe it’s just a trait with Baratheon’s.”

 

“It’s funny, Robert said the same thing about Eddard.” She laughed lightly, watching the mist from her breath in front of her. “They really were like brothers. They were almost family. We were almost family.”

 

“We still could be,” he said, his voice silent to the rest of Winterfell. She glanced at him and he was staring at the stars. “I don’t agree with my sister, and I don’t much like Rhaegar. I blame him for this more than anyone. I want to have the same alliance that we had before when the rebellion started, to join our families. I have no use here, I could marry you, go to the Storms.” He stopped. “But you want to kill my sister, the only living sibling I have left. So, I can’t support that, and I can’t support you. Not unless you grant her safety.”

 

“A shame.” She looked out over the courtyard of Winterfell, wondering if Robert ever trained there with Eddard. “I can’t grant Lyanna safety. Not after what she has done. It isn’t only my decision to make, but even if it was…” She trailed off, knowing that he knew how she would finish that sentence.

 

“Go home, Carlys.” His voice sounded blank to her, and she didn’t even look at him. “Don’t fight for this rebellion. Don’t die for this rebellion. Don’t let your anger cloud your judgment.”

 

“It was good to see you again, Lord Benjen.” She turned to him and smiled softly. “Whatever Lord Robb decides, I wish you good fortune in the years to come.”

 

He turned to her and took her hand, kissing her knuckles softly before letting go. Her skin was very cold, although he was somehow warm. She never did understand the north. She walked back to the doors to the great hall, took in one last chilling, fresh breath, before pushing the doors open, and walking back inside.


	36. Tyrion

Tyrion was finding it increasingly difficult to act as the hand to a king who hated war during a time of war.

 

Rhaegar didn’t want to be like his father, like the Mad King before him. The Mad King was cruel, his atrocities had come out after the first rebellion and stunned the seven kingdoms. At first, Rhaegar’s declaration to be nothing like his father was noble, it was something that everyone could support. Tyrion respected it quite a bit, a king who actually wanted to do what was best for the kingdoms instead of serving his own needs. Rhaegar was a great warrior, a great leader during the rebellion, a great killer. He slain Robert Baratheon at the trident, countless others met their ends at the end of his blade. That was the leader that Kings Landing needed, that was the man that they needed to look towards if they were going to defeat this rebellion.

 

But Rhaegar didn’t want to be like his father. Rhaegar wanted peace.

 

But war was marching on their doors, and peace was no longer an option.

 

The Hand almost found it easier to talk to the Queen than the King. Lyanna sat the danger to her family, and the wolf was not so bent on peace as her husband. She knew that a war was coming and constantly looked for Tyrion, asking for updates on the rebellion.

 

“Be honest with me,” she said one day to Tyrion. “Your father is one of the rebels. Can he be satisfied in a way that doesn’t end in my family’s deaths?”

 

Tyrion had to think of his answer. “Tywin perhaps. Oberyn perhaps, although his sister was dishonored. They will want answers for that. The Tully’s, perhaps. Carlys Baratheon no. But the rest there are possibilities. It is only a matter of appeasing one, and the rest will fall.”

 

Lyanna nodded, although she didn’t seem to believe the sentiment. “Has there been any word from my nephew?”

 

Tyrion sighed and shook his head. He wouldn’t have thought it possible for there to be a Stark on the throne but for them to still have to face Stark’s in the field. “No. Although there are Tyrell’s up in the north. We are expecting correspondence from them soon.”

 

“What are they doing up north? Trying to convince Robb?” She asked and he shrugged.

 

“Gathering information as well. There can be many reasons for diplomatic visits.” The Tyrell’s were opportunists, always looking to advance. Right now, they were the only allies to the Targaryen’s, and they were strong. They may have been roses, but roses had their thorns, and they had their ways of growing and taking over.

 

It was the next day when they did hear from the Tyrell’s. The Maester gave Tyrion the letter from up north. He read it before bringing it forward to Rhaegar. Perhaps the Dragon King would finally make his move.

 

“Carlys Baratheon and Catelyn Stark are up north,” Tyrion told him, but the members of his Kingsguard seemed more interested than he did. Rhaegar’s eyes seemed empty as he looked at Tyrion. “They have fighters with them, but the armies of the Storms and Riverlands are in The Reach.”

 

“We can cut them off on their way back to the other rebels,” Arthur Dayne suggested. “Capture them and their men.”

 

“Edmure Tully will parlay with us to get his sister back, we may be able to get him to surrender,” Tyrion added. “We might even be able to get the Storm Lords to lower their banners. If not then we can get Carlys Baratheon out of the picture altogether. She is the one they rally behind. Without a Baratheon, they could scatter.”

 

“Or doing this could only make the problems worse,” Rhaegar countered. “Launch us into a war.”

 

“There are already battles happening in The Reach!” Tyrion couldn’t help but snap. “There is already a war and we are barely fighting it. We need to make our move, we need to capture these two and start to try and make deals. Right now there are four kingdoms against us and only one with us. We could potentially get it down to two kingdoms against us. The Lannister’s and the Martell’s are strong, but they will not hold together for the long run.”

 

“Your Grace,” Barristan started, “If we do not act now then the rebels will march on Kings Landing. Countless lives will be lost and we will not have the manpower to stop them.”

 

Rhaegar was silent for awhile and Tyrion exchanged glances with Dayne and Selmy. Eventually, the King lifted his head and nodded. “Fine. But if you capture them, bring Carlys Baratheon to me. I must talk to her. Give the orders. Tyrion, stay with me.”

 

The Kingsguard left the room and it was only Rhaegar and Tyrion left. Tyrion looked at Rhaegar, who still seemed so distant. “May I ask, why do you want to speak with Carlys Baratheon?”

 

“She must know that we didn’t kill Renly Baratheon,” he said. “We have done wrong by her, but we did not kill her brother. I wouldn’t have killed him.”

 

“You have not done wrong by her. You spared her, showed her mercy. And for this she rose in rebellion.” Tyrion took a step forward to Rhaegar who watched him. “You do not want to be your father, I understand that. But after the last rebellion you showed mercy and now there is another rebellion at your door. You mustn’t respond with mercy again. Mercy will get you killed, your grace. It will get your family killed, and your people killed.”

 

Rhaegar nodded in understanding. “I know,” he said. “I know what must be done, Tyrion. I know that my kingdoms will go to war, and many will lose their lives. I am going to fight. I am going to kill who needs to be killed just as I did last time.” He stopped. “But every death of this rebellion will be on my hands. And each one will pain me all the same. So, do as you must, and I will join the fight when I must.”

 

Tyrion nodded. “Yes, your grace.”

 

Rhaegar seemed a thousand miles away again, so Tyrion simply left the room. Perhaps Rhaegar was right, all the deaths would be on his hands. All Tyrion knew for sure was that there would be many deaths, and someone’s hands would be very bloody by the end of the rebellion.


	37. Robb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile! Idk if I'm coming back to this fully but just revisited and wanted to add another chapter!

“I am undecided in the matter of the war,” Robb had to speak with such confidence even though he was declaring for no one. He had to hold his head high as he faced his mother and Carlys Baratheon, telling them that he wouldn’t join them in the war. “But as for right now, you will be free to leave, you will have no problems in the North.”

 

His mother looked disappointed, but she held back her emotions well. The Tyrell’s looked happy enough, although they weren’t standing with the other two ladies, off to the side. Carlys Baratheon, on the other hand, looked blank. “May I say something, my lord?”

 

“Certainly, my lady,” he said and she stepped forward.

 

“As a lord, I do respect your decision to stay out of the fray for now,” she said, but he could tell she wasn’t done. His uncle Benjen had told him that ‘anything said before the word “but” didn’t really count’, apparently his father used to say it. “But, I do hope you are considering that there is more at stake to this war than to any other, especially for our two families.”

 

Robb paused. “I don’t quite understand what you mean.”

 

“Our families fought together in the last rebellion,” she explained, “Robert and Eddard were very close, starting the rebellion because your aunt Lyanna ran away, because the Mad King slaughtered your uncle Brandon and Grandfather. This isn’t merely a war of politics, of deciding who the new king will be, at least not for our families. We fight for those who have fallen, for those who have been wronged and disgraced by a Targaryen rule. I do hope you consider that there is more to this rebellion than just rising through the kingdoms.” Her eyes glanced at the Tyrell’s, perhaps by accident or perhaps to send a message.

 

“I appreciate what you are saying, Lady Baratheon,” he admitted. Truthfully, she seemed to be the only one not trying to manipulate him, as odd as it sounded. Baratheon’s were too straightforward to be manipulative. “The stakes in this war are what make it so hard to declare. It is my aunt that you are fighting against, that you want to kill. I understand that my father may be dead because of her, but she is a Stark, and she has northern blood. It complicates things.”

 

“It does,” she agreed and then took a step back. “Well, Lord Stark, as I said I do respect your decision. And I hope one day to see you on the battlefield. Fighting on our side, of course.”

 

“Of course.” He smirked at her boldness. She bowed her head to him and turned her back, walking out with Lord Beric Dondarrion to leave the North. Catelyn lingered behind, and he walked towards her.

 

When he pulled her into a hug she whispered in his ear; “I hope you know what you’re doing, Robb.”

 

“Of course, mother,” he said with a small smile. “Would you trust me?”

 

She still looked unsure but smiled lightly anyway.

 

Robb went to his chambers after seeing the other guests off, taking in a deep breath of northern air and closing his eyes. He wasn’t telling the truth to the others, not the complete truth. He did feel very conflicted about which side he should fight on, he was a Stark, his father was dead because of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna, and he still had a lot of anger because of that. It wasn’t something that he swept away easily, but he was determined to not be like Carlys Baratheon. She was a fierce lady, but she thought with her heart instead of her head. It was how her brothers thought and they were all dead, a fate Robb didn’t want.

 

There was a knock on his door and he opened his eyes. “Come in,” he said, thinking it would be the maester. Instead, Margaery Tyrell walked into the room, closing the door behind her.

 

“Lord Stark.” She greeted him with a smile and he smiled lightly back at her.

 

“Lady Tyrell. May I help you?”

 

“I’ve come to say goodbye,” she said and he raised an eyebrow. “Well, if you are undecided and will not be joining the war, then there is perhaps no reason for Loras and I to be here. We must return to Highgarden.”

 

“If that is what you want then I will see you off,” he said and she crossed the room to get closer to him.

 

“Is that what you want?” She asked. He shook his head. “Then what do you want?”

 

“I want to be king,” he said and she smiled, but he wasn’t finished. “In the North.”

 

“What does that mean?” She asked. “Who will you fight for?”

 

“Rhaegar is desperate for help, he is desperate for an army. The North will fight with him, with the Targaryen’s. If he grants us our independence, I will fight with him. The northern army is one of the largest in the seven kingdoms, if he wants it, he will grant me this,” he said and then looked at her, their eyes meeting. “And I want you to be my queen.”

 

Her eyes widened and he gave a small smile. There hadn’t been a king in the north in many many years, and Robb wanted to bring that back. He had no interests in the seven kingdoms, he didn’t know how to be King. But he was a northerner, he wanted to stay in the north.

 

But the words “King Robb” couldn’t leave his head.


End file.
